


Most Ardently

by usuallyproperlyhydrated



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn, just...the slowest, pride and prejudice au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2020-02-27 10:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18737401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usuallyproperlyhydrated/pseuds/usuallyproperlyhydrated
Summary: Jetra modern Pride and Prejudice AU





	1. Chapter 1

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman in possession of a rough break up must be in want of a rebound.

“Come on, Jane, you’ve been moping around for weeks,” said Lina, exasperated. “There’s only so many times you can stalk his profiles. I keep telling you that the only way to get over him—”

“—is to get under someone else, yeah, I know.” Jane sighed. “And I keep telling _you_ that I don’t do casual hookups or the club scene.”

Which, in fairness, was true. But there is a difference between not being the clubbing type and locking yourself up in the apartment for weeks on end. Jane’s nearly one-year relationship had ended last month and in that time, the couch in the living room had become her go-to hangout spot. When she wasn’t at work or with her family, Jane was sitting with her feet up on the thrifted floral monstrosity crying or watching Netflix or both.

Lina eyed the stuff that had accrued around Jane’s spot in the last month—half empty glasses of water, unwashed cereal bowls, and stacks of gossip magazines.

Enough was enough.

She shut Jane’s laptop, moved it to the coffee table, and sat on Jane’s legs. “What if I told you I had the perfect getting-Jane-back-out-there venue?”

“I’d tell you to lower your expectations.”

“You know how you’re always trying to get me to play those lame board games?” Lina asked.

“Ticket to Ride isn’t technically a board game—”

“—it’s a tabletop game, yes, I know, I’ve heard your speech like a hundred times. And now I know where to find people who will actually appreciate what you’re talking about.”

“Lina, I keep telling you that no one goes to the library to get dates.”

“Not a library. Although it did used to be a bookstore.”

“And now it’s…?”

“A games bar called ‘Make Your Move.’”

Jane groaned. “That’s the worst name I’ve ever heard.”

“Two drinks in, it won’t matter.” Lina got off of Jane’s legs. “Come on, get dressed. We’re going to the opening tonight.”

“Lina, I—”

“I’m taking the wifi router with me if you don’t come.” Lina put her hands on her hips.

“Big deal,” said Jane, getting up and heading to her bedroom. “I’ll just read.”

Surprisingly, Lina didn’t have a comeback for that and Jane enjoyed a brief moment of triumph before she saw the bookshelves in her room.

They were bare.

“Lina!” she yelled. “You didn’t!”

Lina appeared in the doorway with a mischievous smirk on her lips. “I told you, you need to get out of the house.”

“Where are my books?”

“In a safe location. They’ll be returned after we have a nice night out. It doesn’t have to be tonight.” She smiled wickedly. “But you don’t get your hostages back until we do.”

“You might be the worst person I’ve ever met.”

Lina ignored the slight and began rummaging through Jane’s closet. “The good news is that you can wear pretty much whatever you want to this place. What are you feeling? Jeans? Sundress? Some kind of cardigan?”

In the end, Jane grudgingly put on a black t-shirt and jeans, feeling underdressed next to Lina and her sleek green clubbing dress but unwilling to do anything about it. Lina said she had to give it two hours and two drinks before giving up and going home, and Jane might as well be comfortable.

The bar had been open for an hour or so before the young women showed up—there were groups of people at the bar, seated at high top tables, and a crowd around two people playing Dance Dance Revolution.

“Look how into it that guy is getting,” said Lina, indicating to a tall sandy blond man singing along to “Toxic” as he moved his feet rhythmically. “What a nerd.”

“I’m not going to chat him up,” Jane said, glancing at the neon clock above the liquor shelves. How had she only been there for five minutes?

“Yeah, I know you won’t. Which is why I’m going to.” Lina handed her clutch to Jane. “Hold this.”

After the unknown man handily trounced his opponent, Lina muscled her way up to challenge him. From where she lurked, Jane could see him grin widely at Lina, shake her hand, then start the game up again.

Lina had been single longer than Jane had, but her flirting held none of the desperation Jane’s would have at that moment. Her interactions with the DDR-er were natural and unaffected, as if she really was enjoying her time with him. And as Jane watched further, she realized Lina really was. He was a huge dork—his gestures were overblown and his song choices were downright bizarre—but the laughter that made its way over to Jane’s corner was genuine on both sides.

Finally, their championship was interrupted by a tall-ish blonde woman who looked out of place in the bar. She should have been exploiting workers on a yacht or demanding to speak to a manager, not slumming it with people who had probably never spent more than one hundred dollars on a haircut. Everything about her was immaculate from her short curls to her polished nails to her white designer jumpsuit that somehow looked crisp and soft at the same time. Jane only wore white when she was confident nothing would get spilled on her; she would never have worn something so pristine to a bar. If she had, someone would have spilled their beer on her within minutes. But everyone at the bar was giving this woman the room her aura demanded.

White, on this woman, was not the color of serenity and peace. It was not bland or inviting. It sent the same message that bright colors on a frog sent— _stay away from me_.

She touched the man’s shoulder blade mid-song and said something that made him hop off the platform. He turned back to Lina with an apologetic smile and some spoken words then disappeared into a back room with the interloper.

“Damn, was that his girlfriend?” Jane asked when Lina came back, sweaty and glowing. “That sucks.”

“Nah, he said it was his business partner. He also said that he owns the bar and will be sending a few free drinks my way. You’re welcome.”

Sure enough, a couple of cocktails made their way to the table where Jane was wheedling Lina into playing Jenga with her.

“Compliments of Michael,” said the server, hooking a thumb towards the bar where Michael and his bored-looking business partner were surveying the patrons.

Lina raised her glass in appreciation and Michael grinned and waved.

Jane accidentally locked eyes with the blonde woman who seemed to consider her for half a second before deciding she wasn’t worth her time and turning her attention back to Michael.

“She seems charming,” said Jane, wrinkling her nose.

“If Michael wants to hang out with her, she can’t be that bad,” Lina replied.

“Maybe he puts up with her because she’s bankrolling his venture. Also, may I point out that you’ve known him for a total of like five minutes?”

“Yeah but so far he’s been everything a guy should be—cheerful, unselfconscious, and kind. He didn’t mansplain a single thing to me.”

“The bar is so high,” said Jane dryly. “Give it time.”

But when Michael came over to chat with Lina while making his rounds to get to know his other customers, Jane had to admit that she’d been wrong. Michael seemed like a genuine guy. He talked animatedly with Lina about the bar, which he described as his passion project, and eagerly listened to her talk about her job. And while they both did their best to make sure Jane felt included, she couldn’t help but feel a little on the outside.

“I’m gonna go see if I can get anyone to play air hockey with me,” Jane said as Michael and Lina descended into theories about their favorite TV show.

The air hockey table was occupied, so Jane stood against the wall while two bros battled it out. They were kind of cute, in a jocky way. She could strike up a conversation with them and see where that went. When the game ended, the two of them kissed briefly before heading, laughing, to the bar.

Nevermind then.

Jane picked up a paddle and cast her eye around the room for an opponent. Everyone seemed to be in groups or pairs. She should’ve dragged Lina over with her.

With a sharp pain in her chest, she was reminded just why she’d spent so much time on the couch lately. It was one thing to see happy, functional relationships in movies and on TV. It was another to be surrounded by them in reality. Although she knew she had worth outside of a romantic relationship, it made her feel incomplete. She’d had a person always at her side or in her corner for almost a year. Without that comfortable, familiar presence, Jane felt exposed in public.

Not that all of the dynamics around her were perfect. More than a few couples were squabbling about rules and score keeping. But she even missed that. Arguing about whether or not you could stack draw fours in Uno was preferable to standing alone by an air hockey table with no hope of finding a partner soon.

Just as Jane was about to give up, she heard Michael’s voice five feet or so behind her.

“Isn’t this going great, Petra? It looks like everyone’s having a good time.”

“Of course you’d think that.” Petra’s voice was short and clipped. “You’re flirting with the only hot person in here.”

“That’s not true! Everyone here is ridiculously good looking and that’s not just the beer talking.”

Petra made a sound of disapproval.

“Come on, you’re not even trying. Get out there! Talk to someone who isn’t me!” There was a pause before Michael continued, “Look, that’s Lina’s friend Jane over there at the air hockey table. She’s awesome and super cute. Go introduce yourself!”

Jane didn’t particularly want to play air hockey with this Petra person, but she didn’t particularly want to stand there alone anymore either. She turned her head to see if Petra was even seriously considering it.

Their eyes met again briefly and Petra raised a scathing eyebrow.

“She’s fine, I guess, if you’re into girls who look like they could model for Target.” It was decidedly not a compliment. “Besides, I’m not in the mood to give charity to someone no one else wants to spend time with. Stop trying to meddle in my love life and get back to your own.”

Jane didn’t stay to hear Michael’s response. She set the paddle back on the table, ceding it to a couple of college kids, and left the bar.

**Catching a Lyft home** , she texted to Lina. **See you later.**

Her phone didn’t buzz until she was halfway home. **I was wondering where you went. Okay, be safe!**

Even without her books, which were arguably the best part of her room, Jane felt better than she had felt in “Make Your Move.” She felt more real when she was surrounded by knick knacks and the nightstand from her childhood room and the writing desk her parents had given to her when she got into college. The memories attached to each piece of furniture and art reminded her that she had been a whole person before meeting her ex and would continue to be one long after she forgot about him.

Lina popped into Jane’s room when she got back around one, bursting with more stories about Michael and how great he was. When she asked why Jane had left so suddenly, Jane recapped the conversation she’d overheard with a much more humorous spin than she felt.

“She _made eye contact with you_ then called you pathetic? The fucking nerve!”

“What can you expect from a rich person? They’re the worst.”

“I can’t believe Michael hangs out with her. Maybe you’re right—maybe it’s just a business partnership he can’t get out of.”

“I hope for your sake it is. I can’t imagine being around someone like her for long periods of time without her acidity rubbing off on you.”

“I’ll ask him about her tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Jane wiggled her eyebrows knowingly at Lina. “Do you already have a date set up?”

“Girl, you know I do.”

Lina blew a kiss to Jane and bid her goodnight.

“Hey Lina?”

“Yeah Jane?”

Jane paused just long enough to make Lina think she might thank her for getting her out and about, then said sweetly, “My books better be back before I wake up.”


	2. Chapter 2

A fortnight later, after Michael and Lina had gone on many a coffee date, Michael invited Lina on a three day weekend getaway to his cabin.

“You don’t think things are moving too fast?” Jane asked as she watched Lina pack her polka dot carry-on.

Lina’s room was the only other bedroom in their apartment and it was always a little more cluttered than Jane could handle. It was especially bad now, when Lina had almost the entire contents of her dresser and closet out to be mulled over. Jane was sitting between a pile of dirty laundry and an armchair piled high with documents. She would move the documents but Lina said they were in “the perfect order” so rather than fight, Jane took the floor.

“We’re not eloping to Vegas.” Lina held up two shirts, pursing her lips as she decided which one to take. She ended up throwing both in. “It’s just a short trip to property his family owns, and I’m not the only person he invited. It’s an annual thing he has with his friends.”

“Doesn’t that make it weirder? A romantic getaway I can understand, but you’re going to be hanging out with him and his friends the whole time. What if it’s an elaborate plot to get you in the woods by yourself and sacrifice you?”

“You’d think someone in a murder cult would have a more sinister tattoo than Shaq dunking Pikachu.” Lina frowned at the shoes strewn on the bottom of her closet. “Besides, if it ends up being a murder cult, I’ll text you. It’s not that far away—if you can’t save me from being killed, at least you can make sure my body gets a good Christian burial.”

Lina picked up a pair of comfy shoes and shoved them into opposite corners of the suitcase. At this point in her life, when she and Jane had been friends since fifth grade, she knew when to take Jane’s worrying seriously and when to sidestep it with levity.

When Lina got to the point of going along with Jane’s wildest imaginings, Jane knew it was time to stop. Pressing only made Lina dig her heels in harder.

“Which friends are coming, do you know?” Jane asked.

“People he grew up with, I think. Some doctor and some lawyer and your least favorite person in the world.” Lina grimaced at Jane.

“Who, Petra?” Jane tried to laugh it off. “So she’s a rich asshole. I don’t ever have to see her again if I don’t want to and it’s fun to imagine her throwing hot pennies at poor people or swimming through a room full of gold coins. She’ll make a perfect villain in a book one day.”

“I hoped she’d be too busy running her empire or whatever to come, but Michael says she makes it a priority every year.”

“It’s so weird that those two are friends. Michael is playful and open and Petra is decidedly not.”

“I think she keeps him from making rash decisions and he makes her go outside every once in a while,” Lina mused. “A symbiotic friendship as old as time.”

Jane shrugged. “In any case, I hope she doesn’t drag you into a conversation about stock options.”

“Are you kidding? If she gives me insider tips, I’m jumping on it. I hear rich people jail is way better than the regular kind.”

At last, Lina was done packing and Michael’s sedan was in the driveway to pick her up. 

The cabin was much smaller than Lina had expected, but still nice. She and Michael arrived first, so Michael dumped their bags on the floor of the entryway and gave her the grand tour. Although it had three stories, each story only had four or five rooms at most. There was, thank heavens, one fully working bathroom on each floor. The second floor and basement were reserved for bedrooms, and the main floor had an open gathering area with couches and ottomans and a dining table and the kitchen in its own area toward the back. A deck wrapped around the entirety of the main floor, giving spectacular views from every side.

“Let me show you the creek!” Michael said as the others began arriving.

Behind the cabin was a barely visible path that led down the gentle slope filled with wildflowers and trees. The only sounds Lina could hear were bird calls, the rustling of plants in the breeze, and a faint trickling sound.

Michael and Lina spent some time at the creek skipping rocks and looking for tiny silver fish. Finally, Michael thought it was time to go back and welcome his other guests.

And then, a most unfortunate thing happened.

On the way back up the slope, Lina stepped on a root just wrong and crumpled immediately, Michael barely catching her before she hit the dirt.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his blue eyes filled with concern.

“I’m fine,” Lina insisted. “Just stepped weird. Let me—”

But there was nothing for it. Her left leg was all but useless. Despite Lina’s many protestations, Michael scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the cabin.

“Luisa, we’re having a medical emergency,” Michael called as he placed Lina on the loveseat in the gathering area. “Can you see if it’s broken?”

Luisa poked her head out of the kitchen where she was nursing a ginger ale. “Her cervix? Already? Jesus, Michael, we haven’t been here forty-five minutes.”

“What?” Michael’s face was the picture of bewilderment.

“I’m a vag doctor, Michael,” Luisa said. “I assume if you need me for a medical emergency it’s reproductive system related.”

“No, it’s her ankle.”

“It’s probably fine,” Lina said, trying to get up. “Don’t worry yourself on my account.”

The second she put the slightest weight on her foot, she let a hiss of breath out and fell back onto the couch. Luisa came over to her, eyes alight with concern.

“It’s okay, honey, just relax. Hey, Ramos, can you get me some ice?”

Luisa gently removed Lina’s boot and sock and ran her hands over different parts of her foot, then moved it this way and that while Lina gritted her teeth. When she was done, she put Lina’s foot up on an ottoman and placed an ice pack against the ankle.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Luisa pronounced. “But like I said, I’m not an expert. You should go get it checked out in the clinic in town.”

Lina winced again, this time not from physical pain.

“Could you give us some privacy?” Luisa said.

Michael left, reluctantly lingering by the door on his way out to the wrap around porch.

“What’s wrong?” Luisa asked.

“I don’t have insurance,” Lina said. “And I can’t afford to have it looked at only to have a doctor tell me it’s just a twist and they can’t do anything for me anyway.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” Luisa squeezed Lina’s hand. “Tell you what. Keep it elevated and iced for a few days and we’ll keep an eye on it. If at the end of the trip it hasn’t gotten any better, I’ll pay to have it looked at.” When Lina tried to protest, Luisa shook her head. “The healthcare system is fucked up and the cost won’t impact me like it will you.”

“Thank you.” Lina smiled at her, dimples showing. “I appreciate it more than I can say.”

“Don’t mention it. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“Well…”

Jane was nearing the cabin not three hours later, despite some heavy traffic on the way out of the city. Her car wasn’t made for unpaved roads or steep hills and just when she thought she might actually make it, the engine spluttered its last breath at the base of a particularly unforgiving incline.

“Come on,” she muttered, turning the key ferociously.

The car was having none of it. There were several inadequate clicks, but the engine refused to turn over. She pulled out her phone to call Lina and have her send Michael to meet her…and of course there was no service.

Well, she’d come this far. There was nothing else to do but walk, and distance is nothing when one has a motive.

Leaving her useless car on the side of the path, Jane climbed up the hill. Despite the coolness of the air, Jane’s shirt was sticking to her back by the time she crested it. Sure, she exercised regularly but it was always at sea level and on paved roads or a treadmill. Her lungs and calves burned and if anyone but Lina had been at the end of her path, Jane would’ve laid down and died.

Finally, she saw a rustic sign that had “Cordero Cabin” carved into it crudely and Jane was standing at the door.

A beautiful woman with long black hair and cool dark eyes answered her knock. She surveyed Jane’s pit stains and dusty shoes and jeans with detachment.

“You must be Jane Villanueva.”

“Guilty as charged,” Jane tried to joke, but the woman remained unmoved. “Uh, and you are?”

“Jane Ramos.”

Jane was a fairly common name—Jane Villanueva had met other Janes before. But none had made her feel so…inadequate. As if by sharing a name with this woman who looked glamorous in yoga pants, Jane was a poor copy rather than her own person. A Target model, if you will.

“Lina’s upstairs.” Jane Ramos stood aside, indicating to the staircase at the end of the hall but not offering to show her up.

Michael’s welcome was far warmer. “Jane!” he hugged her.

Petra, who was sitting on the window seat reading an industry magazine, pretended not to pay attention to Jane’s arrival. As Jane hugged Michael back and explained about her car, Petra was distressed to find that the exertion of the hike had made Jane’s eyes even brighter and more alluring than usual.

She’d found herself, inexplicably, thinking about Jane Villanueva since their not-quite-meeting at the bar. She’d dismissed her out of hand and was frustrated to find that she kept thinking about her in the following weeks. Late at night, she’d peruse Jane’s social media profiles, trying to find some fault with her body or her personality and came away with a stronger interest. Which was endlessly irritating.

And then it wasn’t just late night perusals. Yesterday on the drive up, Jane—Jane  _ Ramos _ because Jane Villanueva’s intrusion in their lives merited this distinction—had caught her looking at a post of Jane Villanueva and her grandmother.

“Who’s that?”

“No one, it’s no one.”

Petra had fumbled with her phone, but Jane was too quick. Her brow furrowed as she scrolled.

“Hmm.”

“What?” Petra snapped.

“Not your usual type, is she?”

“I’m not interested in her.”

“Sure.” Jane cast her a knowing glance, then handed her phone back.

There was silence in the car as the driver fiddled with the radio settings, trying to get some reception in the mountains.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Tell me what you think.”

“I’ve never met her.”

“Tell me your impressions then.”

“Looks like she’s related to Rogelio de la Vega.”

“And?”

“He’s a big telenovela star. My mom loves him. He’s got a huge following. I’ve never heard of him having a daughter before.”

“Which means…”

“She probably grew up without the limelight. Or money.”

“Which means she’s down to earth?”

“She might be. Or she might be looking to make up for lost time.”

Silence.

“There’s something else,” Petra accused.

“I don’t see any evidence that she likes girls.”

“Maybe she’s just private.”

“Maybe. Just…be careful. I know you’re ‘not interested’ but in case you are. You’re not very good at casual.”

Petra didn’t bother to argue. After her last relationship exploded, she and Jane had tried being friends with benefits because Jane didn’t think Petra was ready for commitment. It had lasted for a month before they both admitted defeat.

“Also it might be confusing to have two Janes in your life if anything does end up happening with her.” Jane Ramos smiled wryly and settled back into her seat to take a nap. “You might want to think of giving her a nickname.”

In the present moment, Michael was listening to Jane tell him about her car troubles and gasping in all the right places. Michael was nothing if not a satisfying audience.

“I’ll go take a look at it myself,” he promised.

“You don’t have to do that,” Jane said. “I would have called a mechanic myself but I can’t get any service up here.”

“We have a landline. I’ll go take care of it; you go check on Lina.” On his way out, Michael spotted Petra. “Oh! Petra, have you met Jane officially?”

Petra set the magazine down and stood up. She was a good three or four inches taller than Jane, but as Jane briefly and distractedly shook her hand, it was apparent that Petra wasn’t going to win any intimidation points. She had to get this Jane’s attention some other way.

“There’s already a Jane here,” Petra said before her good sense could kick in.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s already a Jane. Jane Ramos.”

“I’m aware, she’s the one who let me in.” Jane kept glancing at the staircase.

“Well we can’t very well have two Janes running around, can we? It’d be very confusing. What’s your last name?”

“Villanueva.”

“You are hereby christened JV.”

Jane’s attention was pulled back to Petra and she made a face. “I’m not answering to that.”

“It’s not fair to call Jane Ramos JR,” Petra argued. “She’s been here longer.”

“By a few hours!”

“But she’s been in the friend group longer.”

“Oh my god, you know what? Fine, you can call me JV. Can’t promise I’ll answer to it though.” 

Their uneven encounter over, Jane headed toward the stairs without so much as a goodbye.

Petra sat back down on the window seat.

“Smooth.” Jane Ramos walked over to her from the direction of the kitchen and handed her an iced tea.

“Shut up,” said Petra miserably.

Upstairs, Jane found Luisa attending to Lina’s ankle. Someone had found an ace wrap somewhere, so Luisa was checking the wrapping to make sure it wasn’t too tight and swapping out the ice pack for one fresh out of the freezer.

“—so I found her in bed with my assistant and got out of town as fast as humanly possible,” Luisa was saying.

Lina laughed at the shocked expression on Jane’s face as she heard the tail end of Luisa’s story.

“Jane, this is Dr. Luisa Alver. Luisa, this is Jane, my extremely sheltered friend.”

“I’m not extremely sheltered,” Jane protested.

“My semi-sheltered friend,” Lina amended.

“Your semi-sheltered friend who just drove three hours to be with you.”

“And I’m  _ so _ grateful for that.” Lina batted her eyelashes.

“Nice to meet you,” Luisa said. “And now, Lina, if you don’t need anything else, just keep that elevated and I’ll check on you later.”

Jane helped Lina make a pile of pillows to rest her foot on and they got caught up on everything that had happened since they’d last seen each other.

“I really am glad that you came,” Lina said. “Luisa’s been great and Michael’s been very attentive but…”

“Sometimes you need to bitch to your best friend?”

“Exactly.”

“So.” Jane clapped her hands and rubbed them together, looking around the surprisingly sparse room. “What are we going to do until we’re mobile? Is there a flat screen that’s going to come out of the ceiling or are we going to have to watch  _ Outlander _ on my phone? I hope the wifi doesn’t suck. What am I saying? They’re rich, I’m sure the wifi is high speed.”

“Yeah… There’s no wifi.”

“Are you serious.”

“Michael really takes the whole cabin slash wilderness thing seriously. He was even planning on us sleeping under the stars before I twisted my ankle and became perfect prey.”

“So there’s no wifi.”

“No wifi and no TVs.”

“Oh my god, Lina. It really is a cult.”

“I think there’s a stereo. Cults don’t allow music, right? We should be in the clear.”

“If you brought me up here and both of us to get murdered, I swear…” Jane shook her head disapprovingly. “So, what, we’re going to be playing cards all weekend?”

“For part of it. I was hoping…” Lina gave Jane her sweetest smile. “I was hoping that you’d go hang out with Michael and the others when they go hiking and stuff.”

“You really do want me to die.”

“Come on, Michael’s not so bad, is he?”

“No, but he’s an anomaly among rich people.”

“And Luisa’s really great too.” Lina looked at Jane expectantly.

“Okay,  _ fine _ , I’ll go on the little hikes they use to create the self-imposed obstacles they so clearly lack in their pampered lives.”

“I love you. Please cool it on the ‘eat the rich’ front. Just for the weekend. Okay? When we get back home, you can start building a guillotine. I’ll buy you the lumber.”

Jane bitterly regretted her promise to Lina when she found herself lagging behind the entire friend group the next morning before breakfast. Michael was the one leading the charge and although he had started out with Jane, asking her what she thought of the scenery and if she’d ever seen a moose up close before, he’d gotten too excited to stay at her pace.

Petra and Jane Ramos—JR, as Jane Villanueva called her in her head, a touch spitefully—were somewhere in the middle of the pack, not sweating even a little. Their conversation with the pair of hunky investment bankers wasn’t punctuated by hard breathing, much to Jane’s annoyance, even though they were going at a pretty steady clip.

“Wanna get out of here and go eat?” Luisa looked about as miserable as Jane felt.

Jane heaved a dramatic sigh. “I promised Lina I would give Michael’s friends a chance.”

“Ugh, you’re such a good friend.”

“Right now I wish I wasn’t. Tell me breakfast is going to be good and not just protein shakes.”

“Oh yeah, there’s protein shake options in case people want them, but usually everyone uses this weekend to eat stuff they don’t eat any other time of the year.”

“Thank goodness.” Jane watched as the rest of the group got slowly further ahead. “So how do you all know each other anyway?”

“I know Michael through Petra,” Luisa said. “And I know Petra through my brother, which is a whole thing. You know how siblings are.”

“I don’t, actually. I’m an only child.”

“Then you definitely don’t want to hear my brother woes!” Luisa laughed, a little self-deprecating.

“I told Lina I’d get to know Michael’s friends. You’re one of Michael’s friends so…” Jane spread her hands. “Looks like we both win here. Lay it on me.”

“So he’s actually my half-brother. We’ve got different moms, my mom went crazy and killed herself—yikes, right?—and his mom… I don’t actually know what happened to his mom. She’s out of the picture, has been for a while. So it was just him, me, and my dad growing up. Dad’s got a big business that he wants my brother to take over, but my brother’s more interested in partying and I can’t really say I blame him. I mean, God knows I went to my share of parties all through medical school and took the MCAT partly wasted. Still got a score in the top five percent though, which was nice, although it probably means everyone else was pretty hungover too.

“Anyway, he likes to party and Dad was fine with it until he thought my brother was old enough to start taking over the business and do cocaine instead of molly, that sort of thing. My brother was super uninterested in that but wanted to keep Dad happy because he didn’t want to get written out of the will, obviously, so he found someone who’d take over the business side of things for him.

“And then Dad found out and was furious and my brother was furious and I was caught in the middle because I’m not  _ involved _ in the family business, you know? I mean, I’m an OBGYN, I don’t know anything about property values or whatever. But Dad wanted me to be on his side and my brother wanted me to be on his side and things were really ugly for a while and then Dad died, like, out of nowhere.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Jane said.

“Thanks.” Luisa flashed her a quick smile. “I thought that would be the end of that, right? Because I can’t be on the side of a dead guy and the trauma of the sudden death should have brought me and my brother closer together.”

“I guess that wasn’t the case?”

“Not at  _ all _ . Dad threw him some peanuts in the will—like, maybe a million dollars?—leaving the bulk of the shares to me, and my brother lost it.  He accused me of all sorts of things and completely torpedoed all of his other relationships and I hadn’t heard from him for a couple years before a few weeks ago.”

“What happened a few weeks ago?”

“He showed up at my practice without calling ahead and said that he’d been thinking everything over and that he was sorry for how he acted and that he wants to try to make things right.”

“Wow.” Jane stopped and put her hands on her knees, casting a glance over her shoulder and wondering if she should give up and head back with Luisa. “Do you believe him?”

“I don’t know if I do.” Luisa kicked a pinecone into the underbrush. “But does it matter if he’s telling the truth? He’s still my brother, no matter what he does. We’re family. I should help him however I can.”

“Has he asked you for money?”

“No, he hasn’t mentioned money. Mostly he says he wants to spend time with me to get to know each other again.”

“That sounds pretty harmless. Why don’t you do that and see how it goes?”

“You think so?” Luisa gave Jane a hopeful look.

“It can’t hurt anything. The minute he asks for money, you’ll know why he’s really back and if he doesn’t…” Jane waved a hand. “You’ll be glad to have your brother around.”

“Yeah, I will.” Luisa smiled, her eyes crinkling. “Thanks, Jane. Now that we’ve completely lost the rest of the group, let’s go back and get started on some pancakes.”

The next day and a half passed without incident—Jane and Lina did play cards, in addition to napping and reading out loud from one of the romance novels they found in a closet, and Jane went on a few more walks with Luisa—until dinner on Sunday night. Michael carried Lina downstairs and out onto the deck so she could chat with him while he worked the grill.

Jane set up shop on the other end of the deck, reading the romance novel on the porch swing. Eventually, though, she let the book close in her lap and she closed her eyes, basking in the smells and sounds of the forest around her. Maybe Michael was onto something with his unplugged cabin policy.

“Couldn’t find anything better to read?” JR ruined the tranquility by sitting next to Jane on the swing. She tilted the cover toward her. “ _ The Romancing of Edwina Hibbert _ . Sounds like a real bodice-ripper.”

JR’s delivery was deadpan and Jane prickled, unsure if she was being made fun of or not and erring on the side of keeping her guard up.

“It’s very well written,” she said. “Have you ever actually read a romance novel? Or are you one of those cliché people who judges a book by its cover?”

It was JR’s turn to bristle. She picked up the book deliberately and opened to a random page. In a mock serious voice she read, “—Gregorio unlaced Edwina’s corset with exquisite slowness, then slipped his hand down—”

Jane snatched it back, blushing furiously. “You can’t just read lines out of context. It’s like hearing a movie quote without having seen the movie. You don’t know what’s at stake, what went on before.”

For a second Jane couldn’t tell what JR was thinking—her eyes were inscrutable. Then JR let out a puff of breath that turned into a chuckle and sat back on the swing, moving it with her feet. “You got me there, JV. How’s your car doing?”

Jane told her that the starter was shot, so Michael had gotten it towed back down to the little town at the foot of the mountain. It would be a much less expensive fix than she was expecting, but still big enough that she’d be cutting back on her grocery bill this month. Not that she told JR that. Michael had offered to pay—he said it was his fault that she was even here in the first place—and Jane had refused to even hear him out. Jane didn’t tell JR that either.

The broken starter also meant that even if Lina could get up and walk tonight, Jane had no way of getting back home until it was fixed tomorrow. She was in it for the long haul.

“What do you do?” Jane asked politely.   


“I’m a lawyer. Criminal law.”

“Sounds exciting. Are you working on any interesting cases right now?”

“I only pick the interesting ones,” JR said. “And I can’t tell you about any of them.”

“Of course not. Professional discretion is obviously important.”

It was JR’s turn to be unsure as to whether Jane was mocking her or not.

“What do you do?”

“I’m an editor’s assistant at Longbourn Books.”

“Fascinating. Do you want to become an editor?”

“A writer.” Jane jutted her jaw a little, daring JR to mock her choice of career.

“Good for you. What do you like to write?”

Jane wasn’t ashamed of wanting to be a romance writer, but neither did she want to admit it to a woman who had, not five minutes ago, made fun of her choice in reading materials.

Luckily—or perhaps unluckily—Petra emerged from the cabin then and saved Jane from answering. Her hair was slightly tousled, as though she had just woken up from a nap. For a second, the sheer humanness of the look almost made Jane feel affection for her. 

“How’s the meat coming along?” Petra asked JR.

“As fast as can be expected, given the circumstances.” JR cast a significant glance to where Michael was snapping the tongs playfully at Lina. “Is anyone working on the sides in the kitchen?”

“Denny and Carter,” said Petra, referring to the investment banker bros. “They’re being annoyingly secretive about what they’re making, as usual, as though they haven’t printed off the recipes of ‘top barbecue sides’ from Pinterest.”

“As long as they make that curried cashew salad, I don’t care how shady they act. That shit is to die for.”

Jane was surprised that two very wealthy young men knew how to cook at all—surely they didn’t have time to make meals for themselves and they had no lack of funds to hire a personal chef or nutritionist. Perhaps it was a once a year thing; in addition to going off the grid, the group cooked their own meals to stay “grounded.” She fought the impulse to roll her eyes. Rich people.

Petra leaned against the railing, looking for all the world like a model of high-end outdoor wear, as she and JR discussed the health of JR’s mother. What would it be like to be her? Jane wondered. Never having to cook for herself, even during a do-it-yourself weekend. Never having to worry about the cost of fixing her car. She’d probably never had her heart broken either. Everything in Petra’s haughty demeanor screamed that she was always the dumper, never the dumped.

Jane rode along on the currents of JR and Petra’s conversation until dinner was served and, thankfully, she was seated at the end of the table next to Lina, Luisa, and Michael. The curried cashew salad was indeed amazing and the meat was perfectly tender. After they’d eaten more or less everything in the main course, the group talked lazily as they digested, making room for dessert.

Denny—or was it Carter? They both looked eerily similar to Jane—made a comment about being interested in seeing a movie that had recently been released, but that the critics’ reviews were mixed.

“Ask JV what she thinks,” Petra said out of nowhere. “She saw it last week.”

The eyes at that end of the table were suddenly all on Jane, who was almost certain that she’d never mentioned seeing that movie to Petra. Had she talked to Lina about it when Petra was in earshot?

A faint look of horror ticked across Petra’s face quickly enough that Jane might have imagined it.

“Let me go get the trifle,” said Petra, standing up so suddenly she knocked her hip solidly against the table with a sound that made everyone wince.

She disappeared into the kitchen with JR, leaving Denny and Carter looking at Jane expectantly. She told them what she’d thought about the movie—a little too pretentious for her taste—and they fell back into their own conversation.

“What’s Petra’s deal?” Lina asked when they were back in their room, stomachs full of angel food cake and pudding and fruit and whipped cream. The others were playing some sort of parlor game downstairs, but Lina had claimed to be exhausted. “She was acting even weirder than usual after dinner.”

“I know, right? I think she’s been stalking my Instagram.”

Lina looked baffled. “Why?”

“I have no idea.” Jane flopped down onto the bed next to her. “To make fun of me?” She affected a hoity toity British accent. “‘Oh ho, look how the poors live, how absolutely tragic.’”

“Your impressions are absolutely tragic,” said Lina with a laugh.

Lina’s ankle wasn’t good as new by the time they left, but it was definitely on the mend. Luisa gave it one last look, saying that the swelling had gone down and that Lina should be able to at least hop around in the next day or so. With much sincerity, Luisa said she’d been glad to meet both Jane and Lina and made plans to meet up with them again soon.

There were no such declarations of affection from any of the rest of the group. Denny and Carter hardly looked up from their breakfast when Lina and Jane bid them goodbye and Petra and JR gave only the slightest wave.

“I think that went well,” Michael said as he drove them to the auto shop. “What about you guys?”

Lina answered in the affirmative and Jane made a noncommittal noise. Although it hadn’t been an unpleasant weekend, she was glad to be getting back to her normal life. It wasn’t as though she’d be seeing much of any of the others aside from Michael in the future. And after she switched her Instagram to private, Petra wouldn’t be seeing much of her either.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Coordinating author visits at local bookstores wasn’t something Jane normally did, but Catherine was on some week-long yoga retreat and her client needed to shift some things around for family reasons. So Jane went down to Rosings Books to chat with the event planner about moving up a signing, expecting a long, boring meeting where they haggled over how long the author would speak, how long she would sign, and whether or not the book would be sold at a discount.

What Jane was not expecting was a very,  _very_  handsome event planner with mischievous brown eyes and a smile that could power an entire metropolitan city.

“You must be Jane.” He flashed his white teeth at her and she felt herself smiling in response. “I’m Rafael Solano, stock boy slash event planner. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The pleasure was all Jane’s. Rafael listened attentively, jotting down notes on a legal pad as she outlined precisely what Longbourn hoped to get out of the author visit.

“Done,” he said when he finished.

“Done?”

“We can do all of that.”

“You’re not going to try to negotiate?”

“I don’t see why I should. All of your requests are reasonable, and you’re very...persuasive.” Rafael flicked his eyes to Jane’s lips.

It was a cheesy thing to say, and yet Jane found her heart skip a beat all the same.

“Well, good. My boss will be happy to hear it.”

Happy that she had more time left in her morning than she’d expected, Jane walked out to her car (the lousy thing was working just fine now) and was just about to start it when Rafael waved at her from the sidewalk.

She cranked down her window. “Yes?”

“Well…” Rafael stuck his hands in his pockets and looked abashed. “Look, I don’t normally do this—I try not to bother women in their work environment—but I just couldn’t let you get away without asking if you’d like to get coffee sometime.”

Jane beamed at him. “I’d like that.”

Later that day, when she went home, Jane played it cool until Lina asked how her day had been.

“Oh you know, same old same old. Did some editing, got asked on a date, did some schedul—”

Lina didn’t let her finish her sentence before throwing her arms around Jane, a feat made very difficult by the fact that both of them were eating cereal on the couch.

“JANE! I’m so excited for you!”

“My Reese’s Puffs!” Jane moved her bowl onto the coffee table and out of reach. “And it’s just one date.”

“Tell. Me. Everything. Show me pictures. When is it? Where are you going? What are you doing?”

Jane, who had anticipated all of Lina’s questions and demands, handed her phone to her best friend, who immediately set about scrolling through his pictures.

“He is  _unreal_.”

“Isn’t he?” Jane sounded pleased with herself. Then she got pragmatic. “But it’s just coffee tomorrow before work, no big deal. He probably won’t ask me out again. He’s way out of my league.”

“Please, you’re letting that Target model comment cloud your judgment. You’re every bit the babe he is. Plus…” Lina scrolled to the top of the profile. “He’s an event planner for a bookstore. First of all, that’s amazing and totally perfect for you, and second of all, even if he is ridiculously good looking, he’s a normal middle-class guy with a normal middle-class job. There’s no need to be intimidated by him.”

Jane opened her mouth to argue, but Lina kept talking.

“And before you say anything else, it’s just one date, like you said. Don’t overthink it. Just go and have a good time.”

Jane did go and have a good time—although she definitely did overthink it before, during, and after. It had been so long since she’d been on a date. What should she wear? Obviously not a cocktail dress, which she would’ve worn to a drinks date. Jeans seemed too casual but a skirt seemed too formal. Finally she settled on a floral sundress that managed to be flirty and professional at the same time.

Rafael was fun to talk to. The coffee Jane had ordered was cold by the time she actually got around to drinking it; she was so busy answering all of Rafael’s questions about her life. She didn’t notice until much later that while he had answered her questions about his job and career path, he hadn’t said much about his personal life or his family. Well, maybe he was simply being cautious. Not everyone found it prudent to overshare about their parents’ circuitous path to marriage on the first date (unlike Jane, who had given Rafael the entire backstory to the circumstances of her birth).

He gave her a kiss on the cheek at the end of the date and, with a wink, said he’d be in touch. Jane was floating on air when she arrived at the office and texted Lina every single detail of what had been said and what looks had been exchanged. She didn’t even have time to be anxious that she had talked too much and put Rafael off—he texted her during lunch to ask her on another date.

Although she was optimistic about things with Rafael, Jane wasn’t going to jinx their fledgling whatever-it-was by telling her parents about it before she saw them at brunch the next Saturday.

The fact that the restaurant they normally went to was closed for repairs should have been the first indication that the morning wouldn’t go smoothly.

And frankly, brunch would have been a disaster even if Petra Andel hadn’t shown up.

“Jane!” Rogelio rose from the table to greet his daughter with a dramatic forehead kiss. They had arranged to meet at the Marbella, given that it was the only place nearby they could get brunch without having to wait an hour to be seated. “Have you met my co-star, Fabian?”

Jane had heard of Fabian, of course, but it had mostly been gripes from her father that Fabian was “all style and no substance.” And she had never, ever heard him referred to as Rogelio’s co-star. In fact, the last time Rogelio had gone on a tirade about Fabian, he’d called him “that upstart of an extra.”

She gave her mother an inquiring look and Xo tapped something out on her phone. Before Jane could check her messages, Fabian had seized her hand and kissed it.

“Jane,” he said solemnly. “It is an honor and a pleasure to finally meet you, and can I say that you are even more beautiful than Rogelio said?”

Jane turned the hand kiss into a handshake, gripping Fabian’s soft hands firmly to let him know that she wasn’t going to be some damsel he could woo.

She checked her phone as she sat down. Xo’s text warning had come too late:  **Your father thinks you need a rebound after Adam and decided Fabian was perfect. But he does NOT want you to date him seriously. So be nice, but not too nice.**  She caught her mom’s eye from across the table and rolled her eyes.

“Is Lina coming?” Xo asked before Rogelio could ask what Jane’s eye roll had been about.

“Later,” Jane replied. “She’s at Zumba with Michael.”

“Are people still doing Zumba? I thought the new craze was hot yoga.”

“I do both,” Fabian interjected. “I like to keep my workout routine fresh and there’s nothing like a good, clean sweat from either.”

“I myself am partial to yogalates,” Rogelio said.

Jane gave both men a mollifying smile, then said to Xo, “Michael says it’s the next best thing to Jazzercise.”

“Is Lina bringing him along?”

“Probably. They’ve been attached at the hip lately.”

They all settled in, talking over different items on the menu and whether or not cauliflower hash browns counted as a carb because Fabian’s diet was  _very_ restrictive about that sort of thing. At one point Fabian lifted up his shirt to show Jane the fruits of his labors, which made Jane reconsider writing him off completely until he told her he could get her a good deal with his trainer and nutritionist to get her in shape before summer.

“So, Fabian,” said Rogelio, who was beginning to regret inviting him, “Have I told you that my daughter is a brilliant writer who is going to be a bestseller one of these days?”

Fabian cast an appraising glance at her, impressed. “What are you going to write? One of those books made from your Tweets?”

“Not quite.” Jane tried to stifle a laugh.

As she was winding up to summarize her current novel’s plot, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar figure at the bar. He was wearing his favorite comfy gray shirt and his hair was styled just so. She could almost catch the familiar scent of his hair product.

The amused smile melted off Jane’s face as the precarious hole she’d carved out of her heart filled back up with feelings and memories. It was like being knocked off her feet by a wave at the beach. And just as she struggled to regain control of her emotions, another wave came crashing in, hot and itchy and jaw-clenching.

The nerve of Adam. Who did he think he was? Showing up to brunch at the very same place she and her parents picked as a contingency? She was just beginning to figure out how to live without him and all of that progress had been kicked down the stairs because of his stupid grin and the way he jiggled his leg when he got excited.

Jane didn’t recognize the woman with him at the bar. She supposed it didn’t matter. Whether the woman was a friend or a date, she was the one laughing and talking with Adam like it was the most natural thing in the world, not Jane. This woman could ask him how he was feeling, how things were going with work, instead of having to learn everything secondhand from social media.

Even if the woman wasn’t his date, she could still reach out and touch Adam’s shoulder in a friendly fashion without feeling the ache of loss, the space between what was and what had been.

“Jane?” Fabian stopped just short of prodding her arm.

Well, if Adam glanced her way during his meal, he would see that she was having a very good time indeed. She gave Fabian her biggest, warmest smile and launched into storytelling mode, patiently explaining character motivations and crucial events when Fabian didn’t understand.

Lina showed up, freshly showered and beaming in only the way Michael could make her beam, just as the entrees were being served. Jane had prepped her via text about both the Fabian and the Adam situation, so Lina mentioned neither and instead asked Xo how her dance classes were going.

“Enough about me,” Xo said once she’d filled Lina in. “Tell me about this hot, rich boyfriend of yours! When do we get to meet him?”

“Right now, if you want.” Lina indicated to the other side of the dining area. “He’s over there with his business partner.”

Jane, who had been in the middle of answering a text from Rafael asking if she wanted to go see a movie after brunch, looked up sharply. She had  _not_  been prepped by Lina via text about Petra’s presence.

Sure enough, there was Michael, still wearing his workout clothes, standing next to Petra, who was dressed in crisp white shorts and a silky blue sleeveless top that Jane knew in her heart would complement her eyes beautifully.

“Michael!” Lina called, waving him over.

His eyes lit up when he finally picked her out of the crowd and he waved back.

Rather than watch Michael bound and Petra saunter across the room, Jane finished her text to Rafael and told him to pick her up at the Marbella in fifteen minutes. The sooner she got out of there, the better.

Over the din of the other guests in the restaurant, introductions were made. Did Jane imagine Petra furrowing her brow in disapproval when Fabian said he was Jane’s date? It was a different brow furrow from when Lina mentioned that Xo was her second mother. That one was more analytical, not immediately unfriendly.

Not even food was beneath Petra’s scrutiny—when Lina’s breakfast arrived, Petra stopped the server.

“Has there been a change to the menu?” she asked shortly.

“I…I don’t think so?” The server, barely out of his teens, looked at Petra’s gold gladiator sandals rather than her face.

“Did Ms. Santillan order her French toast specifically without the berry compote?”

“N-no…”

“Then take this,” she handed the plate back to him, “back to the kitchen and come back with compote on top of it or don’t come back at all.”

The server stumbled over his feet back to the kitchen and Jane was impressed when he made it without tripping. Watching him gave her something to do other than avoid eye contact with the uncomfortable faces around her at the table.

Michael cleared his throat. “Petra owns the Marbella.”

“And you will receive the meal free of charge,” Petra said to Lina, who smiled weakly.

“It must be difficult, running an operation like this,” Rogelio hazarded. “It’s like a movie set. People are always running around and if one person doesn’t do their job—” He smacked his hand onto the table. “It all falls apart.”

“You have no idea.” Petra raised her eyes to the ceiling. “The incompetence I deal with every single day is staggering.”

“Do you run into incompetence among your subordinates at the bar, Michael?” Xo asked coolly. She’d been a waitress herself for years and the poor treatment of waitstaff was a sore spot.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Michael said. “People make mistakes but I find fewer customers complain about them if they’re drunk.”

“Speaking of the bar, Mr. and Mrs. de la Vega, you have to come see it sometime,” Lina cut in and began listing all of the bar’s best features.

“Jane?” A new voice entered the fray, one that Jane hadn’t heard in person for months.

Her heart leaped at the precise moment her stomach dropped. She’d been half hoping that he wouldn’t see her and half hoping he would. Although there was little chance of him missing her with the scene Petra had just caused. She hated Petra for bringing him over, albeit indirectly.

She was also grateful for Petra for bringing him over.

“Adam.” In a mix of positive and negative emotions, Jane stood to greet him, unsure if a hug or a handshake would be more appropriate. Adam went in for the hug and she immediately knew that a handshake would have been better. “What a surprise. Fancy running into you here.”

“Yeah, I was just getting breakfast with my sister. You remember Macey.”

Jane did indeed remember Macey, although she hadn’t recognized her from behind since Macey had dyed her hair since they’d last seen each other.

“You look good,” Adam said.

“So do you.”

Fabian, who had been trying to convince Petra to make him the face of advertising for the hotel, stood up and glowered at Adam.

“Who is this?”

“My ex,” Jane said with a slight sigh. She knew that if Fabian was anything like her dad, the next little bit would be memorable and not necessarily in a good way.

Fabian brought himself to his full height, which was only an inch or so taller than Adam. “You’re not welcome here. Jane is a good woman and she deserves better than to be pestered by you when she’s trying to have a peaceful meal with her family.”

Adam raised his hands defensively. “I wasn’t—”

“Her father told me about the cruel way you broke her heart and it is a testament to her kindness that she’s treated you with even the barest civility.”

Jane wanted to jump into the nearest garbage disposal. Instead, she put her hand on Fabian’s arm. “It’s okay. He’s leaving.”

By now the entire restaurant was staring at them. Adam and Macey made their exit, the tips of Adam’s ears pink from embarrassment.

“I’m afraid I have to go too,” Jane told her parents and Lina. “Work emergency.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Petra volunteered. “I’ve got paperwork to do.”

“Michael, why don’t you stay here and tell me the best place to get a Korean face mask around here?” Rogelio asked. “Every place I go is so…inexpensive.”

Jane grabbed her purse, dodged a potential kiss from Fabian, and headed out to the parking lot where Rafael said he’d be waiting, Petra at her side despite telling her multiple times that she was capable of seeing herself out.

Neither of them said much of anything during the walk, Jane because she was too mortified and Petra because everything she thought of saying sounded stupid as soon as it got to her throat.

Thankfully, Rafael was leaning against the hood of his car when they walked out into the humid spring air. He opened his mouth to greet her, then closed it, looking as though he had been struck ill. Jane sensed Petra’s body tense beside her.

“Out.”

Petra’s voice was icier than Jane had ever heard it. She had been curt with the server, but this was a deep level of animosity, not mere impersonal contempt.

“I was just leaving.” Rafael gave a mock bow and opened the passenger side door. “Come on, Jane.”

Jane didn’t immediately follow his instructions. She looked back and forth between their faces, Petra’s flushed and Rafael’s pale. It had been such a short time since she’d met them both that she couldn’t quite parse what their expressions meant. Was Petra turning red from anger or shame? Was Rafael scared or furious?

If Jane didn’t move soon, would they begin screaming at each other or would Petra sic a security guard on him?

She couldn’t imagine they’d stay still for long, and honestly Jane’s money was on Petra if the two of them got into a fight.

Jane got into the car without saying goodbye to Petra.

Rafael tried to keep the tone of their conversation light on their drive to the theater. He was able to keep the charade up until they were stopped at a red light, when he lightly said, “So. Was that a friend of yours?”

“ _Petra_?” Jane laughed. “Hardly. Not a friend of yours either, I assume.”

He gave a bitter chuckle. “Not by a long shot. How do you know her?”

“My best friend is dating her business partner.”

“Her business partner?”

“Michael Cordero.”

“I don’t know him. He must be a recent addition to her cabinet of so-called friends.”

“How do you know her?”

Rafael tapped his finger against the steering wheel in time with the turn signal. “She’s my ex-wife.” He heaved a sigh. “Not exactly the kind of thing I wanted to bring up on a second date, but there you go.”

Jane was genuinely taken aback. She would never have guessed that two people who were so different in their approach to people and the world at large had been together, let alone married. Petra was so closed off and inimical; Rafael was, if not a cockeyed optimist, at least willing to go with the flow without trying to bend it to his will.

“When was that?” she asked.

“Three years ago.”

“Has she always been so…” Jane gestured with her hands, unable to think of the right phrase to describe Petra’s whole deal.

“Pretty much.” Rafael gave a sardonic smile. “Although it used to be attractive back when I was a materialistic asshole. If you’re looking to step on toes on your way to the top, Petra is the perfect partner.”

“I bet. What changed?”

“She woke up one day and decided she didn’t want to be married to me anymore. Ramos, her lawyer friend—”

“We’ve met,” Jane interjected grimly.

“She’s very good at what she does and I was left with next to nothing. She took the money, the hotel, and all our friends. I had to completely start over. Hence the job at Rosings.”

“How awful! Not the job at Rosings—I’m glad you work there or we might never have met—but her treatment of you.”

“It’s unpleasant running into her, but I mostly blame myself. I knew what she was when I married her and I did it anyway.”

“It’s not your fault! You’d think she’d have the decency to leave you with  _something_. It was her idea to get divorced; she ought to have given you something for dumping you so unceremoniously.”

Her breakup with Adam was making her more passionate about the subject than she might otherwise be. Adam had announced out of the blue that he wanted to break up. No, he wasn’t cheating on her; no, he wasn’t mad at her for something she’d done; he’d simply woken up one day and decided he didn’t want to be with her anymore. Who did that?

“The past is the past.” Rafael parked the car, got out, and opened Jane’s door for her. “I try not to think about it and get on with living my life.”

That, Jane decided, was the sort of attitude she wanted in an ex. Amiable to a fault. She hoped, though, as she put her arm through Rafael’s, that she and Rafael would never be exes. That if something did happen between them, they never broke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this chapter is necessary in furthering the plot, writing any sort of romance between Jane and Rafael went against my very soul and I resented every word I typed.


	4. Chapter 4

A couple of weeks after the disastrous brunch, Lina and Jane were sitting out on their apartment balcony, Lina painting Jane’s toenails while Jane scribbled in a notebook.

“Do you think it’s too soon for me to move in with Michael?” Lina asked.

“Yes,” Jane said automatically without looking up from her writing.

“When is it not too soon?”

“You’re talking to the wrong girl. Even after being with Adam for a year, it never came up.”

“Never?”

“He knew I was waiting until marriage to have sex, so he must have figured that living together before then was out of the question too.”

Lina paused to focus on the little sunflower she was painting on Jane’s big toe. “Does Rafael know that?”

“Know what?” Jane drew some circles in the margins of her notebook. She knew what Lina was talking about, of course, but she wanted to pretend that she lived in a world where it didn’t matter—at least for another minute.

Lina was having none of it and said, “That you’re waiting until marriage.”

“I haven’t told him.” Jane’s circles grew closer together, the lines thicker and more overlapping. 

“Why not? You’ve told other guys you’ve dated.”

“I’m not dating Rafael.”

“But you want to be.” Lina prodded Jane’s knee. “What’s the problem?”

Jane sighed and closed the notebook. She’d been six or seven when her abuela had taught her about waiting for marriage to have sex. At the time she hadn’t even really understood what Alba was talking about, but she knew she didn’t want to be a crumpled flower. Then later, when it became more of a choice than a default because all of her friends and classmates were talking about or having sex, her decision to not have premarital sex seemed to draw her further and further away from her peers. It was a conversation that got more and more tiresome the older she got.

“The virgin thing can be a dealbreaker,” she said simply. “Either the boys I tell wonder what’s wrong with me or get really aggressive and ask if God really cares if I have sex or they get weirdly fetishistic about it.”

“Adam didn’t care.”

“Adam was raised Catholic. I knew he’d have some idea of where I was coming from.”

“That makes sense,” said Lina, putting the cap back on her nail polish. “Rafael hasn’t tried seducing you into his bed yet?”

“He’s a feminist,” said Jane primly.

That made Lina cackle. “Did he tell you he’s a feminist? Or did he wear one of those ‘This is what a feminist looks like’ shirts on your last date?”

Thankfully Jane was saved from answering by the buzzing of her phone.

“Hey Luisa!”

“Ask her when you can start talking about moving in with somebody,” Lina whispered.

Shaking her head at Lina’s tenacity, Jane put it on speaker. “Lina wants to know how soon is too soon to discuss moving in with somebody.”

“You know I’m a lesbian, right?” Luisa asked. “The time to talk about moving in for my people is before the first date.”

“I thought that was a stereotype,” Lina said.

“Stereotypes have to be based on something. For instance, my last relationship? We moved in after only being together for three weeks, and we had only known each other for a month.” There was a pause and the sound of something shutting on Luisa’s end of the line. “Granted, it ended in marriage and then divorce, but if you’re open to good things, bad things will happen too I suppose. It’s all part and parcel with being human. Are you thinking of moving in with Michael?”

“Yeah. Do you know if he’s lived with anyone else?”

“You don’t know?” Jane asked Lina.

“It’s not something that’s come up yet.”

“Hmm. I’ve only known Michael for a few years but I don’t recall him living with anyone. Except for a brief stint when he was crashing at Petra’s because his place was being renovated and I’m almost one hundred percent certain they weren’t doing it.”

“Oh?” Lina blinked as if she just realized that Michael and Petra could, ostensibly, have sex. The thought had never occurred to her before. “How come?”

“Because she was doing Ramos at the time. And the gross guy who owns the neighboring adult hotel. Between the two of them, Michael wouldn’t have had time to smash Petra even if he wanted to,” Luisa chuckled. “Which he doesn’t and never has, in case you were wondering. He says they have too much of a bro vibe, and he’s not interested in women who could murder him casually. And Petra’s only attracted to guys who are assholes—I’ve never known her to be into a guy who was nice to her. Case in point, my brother.” Luisa made a disapproving noise. “Speaking of which, Jane, can I ask your advice?”

“Of course.” Jane ignored Lina’s silent warnings that her nails weren’t dry yet and walked, flat-footed, back into the apartment. “How have things been going with your brother lately?”

“Good!” Luisa said. “Really good! Suspiciously good?”

“Suspiciously good?” Jane repeated.

“He’s been attentive and interested in what’s happening in my practice and my life and offers to pay for my meals when we eat together and doesn’t drink around me.”

“That does sound different from the guy you described to me before. Like, a lot different.”

“I know,” Luisa said fretfully. “And I want to give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s my brother, you know? And he’s really showing up with his changed behavior. But…”

“But you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Exactly. Do you think I should tell him about my doubts? That seems better than keeping my guard up around him and expecting him to mess up.”

Jane pondered that for a bit.

“No, don’t do that. There’s nothing worse than someone explicitly telling you that they don’t trust you, even if they have good reason not to,” she said resolutely. “It sounds like your brother has changed his behavior and that’s probably due to him knowing that his past behavior was terrible. So telling him what you’re thinking will only make him feel worse or even like nothing he’s doing is making a difference to your relationship.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.” Jane couldn’t imagine anything worse than someone she loved saying they didn’t trust her. That sort of comment would haunt their every interaction. “Keep doing what you’ve been doing. You don’t have to blind yourself to all his faults, but you don’t have to be looking for him to do something wrong either.”

Luisa sighed. “I wish I was a good judge of character like you. It would save me a lot of trouble.”

Jane, who didn’t like to brag but secretly agreed that she was an excellent judge of character, tried to comfort her. “It can be learned. If you want, I can meet your brother and tell you what I think.”

“Maybe. If I keep not being able to trust myself.” Luisa sounded resolute. “If you’re right and it can be learned, I have to put in the work. It’s just like med school.”

“Sure.” Jane smiled, feeling fondness for Luisa bloom in her chest. “Hey, what are you doing next weekend?”

“Appointments with patients who can’t make weekday visits and an AA meeting or two, depending on how I feel. Why, what’s up?”

“Are you going to the big bash at Michael’s bar next Friday? If you’re comfortable being around people drinking, of course.”

“We’ll see,” Luisa said. “I’ve been doing a lot better lately, but it’s a day-by-day process.”

“Well if I don’t see you there, we need to do something else soon, okay?”

“Okay!”

Jane also invited Rafael to the big bash, albeit with a caveat.

“Your ex-wife will probably be there,” she said. The two of them were taking a stroll along the beach after they’d both gotten off of work. Rafael’s arm was casually draped around her shoulder and her arm was around his waist. “I know you said you have no problem with her, but I thought you’d want to know.”

She was looking up at him when she delivered the news and so saw an expression of distaste cross his features briefly. Rafael uncurled his lip and looked down at her.

“Your presence is worth having to see that conniving, heartless trophy wife,” he said calmly. “Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“9:00 at ‘Make Your Move.’”

Rafael kissed the side of her head. “I’ll be there right on the dot.”

Jane didn’t start worrying until 9:45, when not only had Rafael not shown up, his phone was apparently off too. He wasn’t answering texts, and her calls (she’d limited herself to two…or five) went straight to voicemail.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Xo said over the noise of the crowd. Word had gotten out about the party at “Make Your Move”—half-priced cocktails and free appetizers—and there was barely room to bring your drink to your mouth. “But I bet he’s less cool with Petra than he said he was.”

“Then he should have told me!” Jane looked at the notification-less screen of her phone one last time, then sent it to solitary confinement in her small purse. “Where’s Dad?”

Xo, who was dancing in place to the music, pointed with her free hand toward the pinball machines where Rogelio was talking animatedly to an equally enthusiastic Michael.

“What are they talking about?” Jane asked.

“Beats me. Suits? Award-winning dramas? What Michael’s signature color could be?” Xo worked a shrug into her little dance. “Those two could talk to each other all day. If Lina and Michael break up, I know who your dad’s going to choose.”

That was an understatement. Rogelio had already sent Michael three bromance gift baskets in the short time they had known each other. Jane could, she knew, have felt a little resentful that her father was lavishing so much attention on someone else, especially since her own relationship with him was so recent. It could have felt like Michael was the son Rogelio never had. But really, Rogelio’s affection was less filial than it was fraternal—he didn’t click with Michael because Michael was a man, but because Michael was Michael.

Lina joined Jane and Xiomara and asked, “Will you please go get your husband so I can dance with my boyfriend?”

Xo readjusted her dress and winked at Lina. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I hope he likes my next boyfriend half as much as he likes Michael,” Jane confessed as her mom left.

“He probably won’t.” Lina gave a devilish grin. “Your only hope is to date Michael if I die an untimely death because I’m never, ever breaking up with him. Speaking of boyfriends, where is Rafael anyway? I thought he was coming.”

“I thought he was too.”

“His loss. Come dance with me while we wait for your mom to work her magic.”

Like everywhere else in the establishment, the dance floor was packed with people. Lina elbowed her way in, Jane trailing in her wake of semi-violence and apologizing to anyone who threw them an annoyed look. As unintelligible lyrics blared over the thrumming bass, Lina pointed at Jane and reeled her in. Jane, laughing, shimmied forward to take Lina’s hands in something they called “lindy hip hop,” which would have made connoisseurs of both lindy hop and hip hop cringe. It involved a lot of bouncing, twisting, and locking.

A few songs later, Michael joined them, twirling and dipping Lina and doing the robot with Jane. He did his best to include her, but their ensemble number was quickly becoming a pas de deux as Lina hooked her hands behind Michael’s neck, their eyes sparkling.

Jane was turning to head toward the bar or the street to check her phone to see if Rafael had texted that he was on his way or that he had been carjacked when she ran into Petra.

“Sorry,” Jane said, stepping to the side.

“Would you like to dance?”

Jane looked over her shoulder to see who Petra could possibly be addressing. Everyone behind her was occupied. She looked back at Petra, who was giving her a funny look.

“Wait, with me?”

“Of course with you,” Petra said, as if Jane was an idiot for clarifying. As if she herself hadn’t rejected Jane in this very room not so long ago.

“Are you sure there isn’t someone here who’s more your type?” Jane asked, letting some bite into her voice.

Petra didn’t bother defend or deny her previous comment. She merely held her hand out as an invitation for Jane to take or leave, apparently indifferent to what Jane chose. Her nonchalance got under Jane’s skin.

It was this indifference that made Jane say yes. Why bother asking if she didn’t care one way or another?

Jane took Petra’s hand and led her further into the crush of people. Petra looked affronted every time someone unwittingly ran into her. Good. Annoyance was better than aloofness. Jane was always so frazzled in Petra’s presence; it was time to return the favor.

Expecting Petra to step back, Jane got right into her space and started dancing up on her. Petra didn’t move. Her movements were stiff, but she held her ground and once or twice reached out to take Jane’s hips, bailing at the last second.

Was the idea of touching Jane really _that_ repugnant to her?

Just to be an asshole, Jane took Petra’s hands one at a time and placed them on her hips, which were swaying to the beat, and stared Petra down, daring her to make some sort of comment.

Petra’s hands flexed on Jane’s hips—she could feel them through the fabric—but they didn’t move and she didn’t say anything.

Jane went on her toes and put her lips right next to Petra’s right ear. “Nice weather we’re having, huh?”

The confused expression on Petra’s face was comical. It was the first time Jane had seen it without hostility or boredom written across it. She moved her head back to look at Jane, then looked to the windows. It was dark enough outside that nothing could be divined from the glance.

“What?”

“And now it’s your turn to tell me I’m the best dancer you’ve ever seen.” Jane did a very unsexy version of the chicken dance.

Petra’s eyes followed Jane’s chicken wiggle to the ground with disbelief. Was she regretting asking Jane to dance? Or was there a flicker of bemusement in her expression?

“I’m not going to do that,” Petra said when Jane was standing up straight again.

“I knew you wouldn’t.”

“Then why did you say it?”

“To get you to say something longer than one syllable.”

Petra’s confusion turned into indignance. So she _could_ display more than two emotions. “I am perfectly capable of holding an intelligent conversation.”

“Okay.” Jane turned around so her back was to Petra’s front. Petra’s hands were back on her waist and Jane ground against Petra’s thighs, a little higher than she would’ve gone on Lina or another lady friend.

Petra made a weird little noise that could have been choking or clearing her throat.

“Have you read anything good lately?” Petra asked, a little louder than necessary.

“Have you?” Jane tossed back.

“A history of the Medici family.”

“Very appropriate,” Jane snorted.

Petra spun Jane around and suddenly they were chest to chest, Petra’s eyes intense. Not angry, exactly. Searching.

For a few quickened breaths they were the only people in the swarm standing still.

“It could seem that way if your only knowledge of my background comes from a biased source.”

“Rafael only confirmed what I already knew.”

Petra flushed. “It must be nice to be right about people all the time.”

“It is.”

Xo chose that moment to interrupt them by slinging an arm around Jane’s shoulder. “Come on, Janey. Let’s go throw Michael’s name around at the bar and get some free drinks. It’s about time Lina dated a rich guy! No more day-old donuts for us.” She gave Petra the up-down. “Unless _you_ wanna buy us drinks?”

Jane steered Xo away before Petra could respond and slapped some cash down on the bar for some shots.

She checked her phone. A text from Luisa apologizing for her absence and asking if Jane wanted to get Cubanos on Sunday.

Nothing from Rafael.

She sent off another text— **Look, if you’re not coming that’s fine, but are you okay???** —then went outside to get some air, waving off Xo’s insistence that she put her phone down and enjoy herself.

Jane would enjoy herself. Just as soon as she knew Rafael wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere.

The warm night air wasn’t chilly by any standards, but it was significantly cooler than inside the bar. Jane waved some air into her pits, hoping she hadn’t been too visibly sweaty when dancing with Petra.

Her finger was just about to hit the call button to leave Rafael another super-casual-lady-friend-not-girlfriend-but-it’s-cool voicemail when the bar door opened, letting the sounds of revelry out onto the street for a brief moment before it swung back shut.

“Hey, Jane V.” 

Jane could have groaned. Instead, she turned around to face Jane Ramos who, as always, looked incredibly put together. There were no pit stains on her soft white t-shirt or sweaty strands of hair stuck to her temples.

“Hey, Jane R.” Jane smiled politely and tried to surreptitiously brush her hair away from her temple.

“Didn’t take you for a smoker.” JR settled her back against the brick wall to the left of the door, hands in her front pockets.

“I’m not. Are you?”

“Nah. Just needed a minute.” JR’s eyes alighted on the phone in Jane’s hand. “Am I keeping you from making a call?”

As Jane was deciding what to say, JR continued, “Perhaps to a certain ex-husband of a mutual acquaintance?”

Jane’s ears got hot. So what if she _was_ going to call Rafael? That was none of JR’s business. None of Petra’s either.

“Acquaintance is pushing it,” Jane said, trying to match JR’s coolness.

“Is it?” JR raised an eyebrow. “Tell that to the way you were grinding your ass into her on the dance floor.”

“That was—I was—” Jane sputtered. 

“Look.” JR cut her off. “I don’t care if you’re dating Rafael. You could do a lot better, but I’m not your friend and I’m not going to waste my time trying to convince you to drop him. Petra, on the other hand, _is_ my friend—my best friend. So do whatever it is you’re doing with him, but do it far away from Petra. Got it?”

Jane wasn’t about to be intimidated. “Or what?” she challenged.

JR pushed herself off the wall and sauntered over to stand toe to toe with Jane. She was a good four inches taller than Jane, even without heeled boots on.

“Imagine Lina’s worst ex,” she said, her voice low. “Imagine them coming back into her life, all smug and unrepentant, and imagine finding out that some naive nobody had made it happen. Imagine what you would do to both the ex and the nobody.”

“You already ruined Rafael’s life,” Jane shot back. “Are you going to do that to me too?”

“Oh honey.” JR gave her a sharp smile. “By the time I’m done, you’ll wish I really had ruined his life the first time around.”

Then, abruptly, JR took a step or two back. “But only if you insist on bringing him around Petra. You seem like a smart girl. I’m sure you’ll rethink making that call.”

And without further ado, JR ducked back inside the bar.

Despite the warmth of the night, Jane shivered. She looked at her phone. No notifications. She could leave him another voicemail. And maybe this would be the one that brought him here.

She put her phone away.

Not because she was intimidated by JR’s threats. She wasn’t. But because if Rafael wanted to see her tonight, he knew where she was. He knew her number. He could call or text at any time.

And if he never did?

The thought drove Jane back into the bar too, where she ordered two more shots. She could barely make out Rogelio and Xo and Lina and Michael on the dance floor. So she didn’t have a dance partner. With enough alcohol, that wouldn’t matter.

Jane did another shot.

Fine. Rafael wasn’t her boyfriend. If he didn’t want to show up, that was his problem. She was hot, young, and single—it was time she started acting like it.

Jane woke up the next morning with the worst hangover she’d ever had, including the one she’d had the morning after her twenty-first birthday. She and Lina had ended up in the same bed, Lina’s legs settled over Jane’s belly. With a groan, Jane pushed them off.

“Hrmph?” Lina’s head came up off the side of the bed.

“Bad.” Jane clamped pillow over her eyes. “So bad.”

“Mmm,” Lina agreed.

They weren’t transformed back into actual human beings until the afternoon was well under way. Lina, fresh from a shower, went into the kitchen for some Gatorade. Jane was seated at the counter eating toast.

“Have you seen the videos yet?” Lina asked, opening the fridge.

“What videos?”

“Your dad posted a ton.”

Jane navigated her phone to her dad’s very public Instagram account to see what Lina was talking about. Apparently at some point last night, a karaoke machine had been booted up and there were copious videos of Xo, Jane, Lina, Michael, and Rogelio singing. Jane and Lina did a rousing rendition of “Hot In Here” complete with sloppy dancing, Xo covered “Milkshake” (ditto on the dancing) Rogelio, in a stunning moment of drunken self-awareness, sang “You’re So Vain,” and Michael and Lina did “You’re the One that I Want” with Lina as Danny and Michael as Sandy.

“Oh god.” Jane winced, imagining just how drunk she must have been.

“Like fifty of your dad’s fans have followed me because of it. Influencer status, here I come!” Lina finished the rest of the drink and tossed the empty bottle into the recycling. Her phone lit up with a text from Michael. Distracted, she said, “Oh hey, did Rafael ever text you?”

“Nope.” Jane set her phone down.

“What a dumbass.”

Jane agreed, but she didn’t want to talk about it. “How’s Michael?”

“Still in bed. But apparently he wrote himself a note on his nightstand before passing out last night.” Lina passed her phone to Jane, showing her a picture Michael had taken.

“Lina live here???” was written on a yellow sticky note with shaky writing.

“Drunk Michael wants me to move in.”

“Does sober Michael agree?”

“I think so, otherwise why would he send me the picture?”

“Don’t start buying furniture yet.” Jane ate the last of her toast.

“I won’t.” Lina smiled, her dimples as deep as Jane had ever seen them. “Not yet, anyway.”


	5. Chapter 5

“So how was the party?” Luisa asked as she and Jane stood in line at the Cubano truck.

“Weird.” Jane frowned slightly. “Petra asked me to dance, then JR threatened to ruin the life of this guy I’m seeing, and then me and my family got blasted and did karaoke.”

Luisa grinned, looking a little sheepish. “I saw the videos. Your choreography to ‘Hot in Here’ was my favorite part. Did you two make it up on the spot?”

Jane tossed her hair with mock humility. “Why thank you. We made it up in eighth grade. It’s more ingrained in my muscle memory than tying my shoes at this point.”

“Incredible. Oh!” Luisa began rooting around in her purse. “Before I forget, I brought something for you.”

She placed a small, smooth stone into Jane’s hand. It had light and dark blue bands swirling around it, making it look like a frozen piece of ocean.

“Luisa, this is beautiful! Where did you get it?”

“I found it in Botswana a couple years ago and just finished polishing it the other day.” Luisa looked pleased with Jane’s reaction and a little self-conscious at her admission. “I know rock collecting is a little third grade, but after I stopped drinking I had to do something. It was that or keep getting into relationships with people I try to fix.”

“Well, I love it.” Jane gave Luisa a quick hug, the stone clutched in her fist.

They placed their orders, chatting about how long Luisa had been doing it and how she displayed her collection. Once they received their sandwiches, they found a nearby bench in some shade.

“You’re right,” Luisa said with her mouth full. “This is the best Cubano I’ve ever tasted.”

“Right? Lina says I have an unrefined palate for pretty much everything else, but it’s never wrong with grilled cheese or Cubanos.”

“Where’s the city’s best grilled cheese?”

“My place,” Jane said. “I’ve spent the better part of my life perfecting the recipe and technique and I have yet to find a restaurant that does it better.”

“You like to cook?”

Jane laughed out loud at that, startling some nearby seagulls. “I’m not allowed near the stove in our apartment if it’s not grilled cheese-related. I set it on fire one time, and now Lina’s all paranoid.”

“What were you making?”

“Rice.”

“Like fried rice?”

“Like boiling rice on the stove.”

“Doesn’t it just stick to the bottom if you burn it?”

“I guess that’s what normally happens.” Jane shrugged. “Lina says the normal laws of the universe don’t apply to my cooking. Do you cook?”

“God, no. We had a personal chef growing up and then during my undergrad and med school I lived off take-out and vending machines.” Luisa meditatively chewed another bite. “I do watch a lot of cooking fail videos, so I feel like if I ever wanted to take it up, I’d know what not to do.”

“I _love_ cooking fail videos. Have you seen the one where—” As she was getting out her phone to show Luisa what she was talking about, Jane noticed that her mom had texted her fifteen times. “Sorry, hold on.”

Luisa took a sip of water. “Take your time.”

The messages all said pretty much the same thing— **Your dad is being ridiculous and if I have to deal with him for one more second, I’m going to murder him. Please see what you can do.**

“So you know how my dad’s an actor?” Jane said, setting her phone on the bench.

“Mmhmm.”

“He’s, uh, very sensitive and sometimes needs someone to talk him down. Today that person is me. I don’t want to bail on you, but I don’t think you’d enjoy watching him have a mantrum about who-knows-what.”

“I don’t mind. You’d be surprised how many dudes I have to calm down after I tell them the biological sex of their babies.” Luisa finished her last bite and crumpled up the wrapper. “Let’s bounce.”

Jane tossed her wrapper into a trashcan on the way to her car. “Ew, do some dads really do that? What is it, 1950?”

“You’re telling me. There’s no telling who’s going to flip out either.” Luisa shifted the purse strap on her shoulder. “One time there was a rough-looking guy who had three daughters already and he was excited as hell that his wife was having another girl. And then there was a perfectly polite dude who started full-on screaming at his fiancé when I told him it was a girl.”

“That sounds like a nightmare.”

“I’ve only had to call security once, and the guy wasn’t violent or anything. He was just crying on the floor of the ultrasound room and I couldn’t move him for my next appointment.”

Rogelio wasn’t quite sobbing on the floor when Luisa and Jane reached his trailer, but that didn’t mean that calming him down wouldn’t be an arduous task.

He ripped the trailer door open when Jane knocked, looking as furious as someone can look in a lilac bathrobe.

“Everything is terrible, Jane!” he thundered. “You won’t believe it!”

“Dad, this is Luisa, one of Michael’s friends.” Jane made the introduction as she and Luisa climbed up the steps and inside.

Rogelio’s indignant expression quickly switched to a charming smile and he took Luisa’s hand. “Any friend of Michael’s is a friend of mine.” Just as quickly, his expression swung back and he addressed Jane again. “If you were sent to change my mind, it will never happen! I will not yield!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Among many, many other things, the beach! The beach is all wrong!”

Shooting was taking place on location today and although Jane hadn’t been paying particular attention to her surroundings, she hadn’t noticed anything obviously objectionable about the beach.

Without waiting for a response Rogelio continued, “Stefano would would _never_ make his triumphant return from exile to this dump!”

“I’m guessing the director doesn’t agree,” Jane said.

“The director. Pah! Of course she doesn’t. She doesn’t understand Stefano like I do and when I tried to explain myself—very calmly, I might add—she said that it’s the return that matters, not the location. Again I say, pah!”

Rogelio continued on his rant, giving all the reasons it was an unsuitable beach and what Stefano had endured to get to this point. From Xo’s texts, Jane gathered that she had gone down this path as well, only it had lasted for hours.

Jane exchanged a glance with Luisa—or tried to, since Luisa was watching Rogelio with rapt attention, nodding her head a tiny bit before Jane could warn her not to show her dad any signs of encouragement. He would wear himself out if he kept getting stonewalled and reasoned with; all everyone had to do was wait it out because frankly Jane didn’t know how to argue with her father’s passionate attachment to his fictional character, despite being attached to several fictional characters herself. In the books that she wrote, if she didn’t like the location, she usually just switched it. There was no director or location scout to tell her where she had to set a scene. But her father was a professional working with other professionals. If he didn’t like the way something went, sometimes he just had to deal with it.

“AND, Jane, they want me to wear rags. Rags! Not ones that make me look like a rugged pirate, but ones I wouldn’t put on a dog!”

Jane had no answer to that, but Luisa did.

She perked up and said, “Rags?”

“Yes, _rags_ ,” Rogelio said in a tone of deepest loathing and betrayal.

“Let me get this straight. Your character—”

“Stefano.”

“—right, Stefano, has been exiled from his homeland for an extremely long time and he finally made his way back and he’s arriving on a humble—”

Jane almost coughed. South Beach was far from humble.

“—beach and putting on rags before going home?”

Rogelio gave a bow. “That is correct, Michael’s friend Luisa.”

“It sounds like an homage to the Odyssey to me.”

Jane could have kissed her. How could she have missed such obvious parallels?

“Luisa’s right, Dad. Stefano is just like Odysseus, coming home in a quiet and understated way so he can find out what everyone’s been up to without them knowing he’s here. I’m sure he’d be very interested to know that Lucinda has been sleeping with Esteban and it’s not like Lucinda’s going to come out and tell him that.”

“Of course she’s not; Lucinda is a duplicitous minx,” said Rogelio without any real venom for Lucinda because he was busy chewing on what Luisa and Jane had said. He paced back and forth between the trailer’s kitchen and lounging area.

Luisa gave Jane a conspiratorial wink when his back was turned, which Jane received with a smile. This was the quickest she had ever seen anyone shift her dad’s contrary mood. 

“If a tribute to the Odyssey is good enough for George Clooney, it is good enough for me,” Rogelio announced at last. “I’m going to call the costumer and the makeup artist and let them know I will put on the rags and dirt. Jane, if you would be so kind as to inform the director of the change of plans on your way out.”

“Sure thing,” said Jane, standing. “Luisa, are you coming?”

“Is it okay if I stay and watch? I’ve never seen a telenovela being filmed before.”

“My set is your set,” said Rogelio benevolently. It was as if the tempestuous mood had never happened.

“I’ll go tell the director the good news,” said Jane. 

Xo was right; he was ridiculous, and Jane loved him for it.

When Jane got home, she relayed the whole story to Lina, who was on her laptop while lying on the floor.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Jane concluded. “Luisa might be my new best friend.”

“Understandable,” Lina replied. “God knows I’ve never been able to do anything other than wind Rogelio up even more.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Oh you know. Just putting some boards together on Pinterest.” Lina wasn’t expecting the pillow when it hit her in the back of the head. “Hey!”

“You’ve been making fun of me for using Pinterest for _years_ and now you’re all casual about having one? Who are you?” Jane demanded.

“Look, it’s a very convenient way to compile all the things I’ll need when I move into Michael’s apartment.”

“It would’ve been much more convenient if you’d helped with my Pinterest boards before we moved in here instead of shooting down all my ideas and providing none of your own!”

Lina grimaced. “I was young and dumb. Will you ever forgive me?”

“We’ll see. You’re on thin ice, buddy.”

Although they both laughed, Jane began feeling nervous. Of course she and Lina would always be best friends. But would things change when Lina moved in with Michael? Beyond the relationship ramifications, who would Jane get to be her new roommate? It wasn’t as if she could afford the rent by herself. Would she have to move back home? Not that that would be the end of the world; it was just that living with Abuela again would feel different after being independent for so long.

Luckily Michael hadn’t put a date on the move in yet. He and Lina were still in the beginning stages of planning. Pinterest.

It might not happen.

Which was an awful thing to think. Of course she wanted Lina to be happy. Of course she thought Michael was the best guy Lina had ever dated. Of course of course of course. But it was also a change that Jane couldn’t tackle by planning everything herself—she had to sit by and watch Lina and Michael do the planning. She hated that she couldn’t control such a big change in her life.

A couple of days later, there still wasn’t any word on precisely when Lina was going to move out. And, even weirder, Michael had bailed on a date night and was being super slow to respond to her texts.

“Maybe he’s caught whatever bitch-ass disease Rafael has,” Lina joked.

“Maybe,” said Jane doubtfully. “But Rafael and I were never official. You and Michael have talked about moving in. Do you think he has commitment issues?”

“No.” Lina was certain. “I’m sure he’s just busy. We’re both working adults so he’ll get back to me when he has time.”

“Do you want to hit up ‘Make Your Move’ tonight?” Jane asked a few days after that. Lina was, again, lying on her stomach working on her Pinterest boards.

“Oh my god, no! I’m not trying to be the smothering girlfriend.”

“It’s not smothering if you’re worried he might be dead,” Jane replied.

“Have _you_ dropped by the place where Rafael works?”

“Well, no.”

“Then I’m not dropping by the bar,” Lina said, determined. “What if this is some kind of needy girlfriend test?”

Jane didn’t think that Michael was the kind of guy who would test his girlfriend like that. He seemed so upfront and honest about his feelings. If he was worried that Lina would be all up in his space after moving in, he would talk to her about it. Wouldn’t he? Luisa had said he hadn’t lived with anyone for as long as she’d known him. Maybe he was rethinking it.

The problem of distant Michael took a backseat in Jane’s worrying schedule the week after that and instead she was trying to psych up for a writers’ conference her work was paying for her to go to. Everything about it seemed great—networking with agents and other authors, listening to publishing professionals, even a keynote by Isabel Allende.

The only problem? The location.

When Jane had signed up for the conference eight months ago, the Marbella had only been a name to her.

“It’s a pretty big conference, isn’t it?” Lina asked the morning of the first day when Jane was deciding what to wear. “What are the chances of running into her?”

“I don’t know. How often does a hotel owner mingle with guests?”

“I think you mean, how often does a hotel owner get grinded on by guests?” Lina smirked.

Jane covered her face, pushing away the memory of Petra’s hands gripping her waist. It was bad enough that she’d dreamed about it a couple of times; she didn’t need her waking brain sabotaging her too. “I regret telling you about that.”

“And I regret not seeing it with my own eyes. No, not the blazer with that shirt. You look like a middle aged lady accountant trying to fit in with her all-male coworkers during the sixties.” Lina tossed a soft yellow shirt with a gathered neck at her. “Try this.”

Jane peeled off the blazer and white Oxford. “If I do see her, do you want me to ask her about Michael?”

“No,” Lina replied immediately. “Absolutely not. What if it’s part of The Test?”

“How does me asking about Michael prove that you’re a needy girlfriend? What if I’m asking because I’m genuinely interested?”

“Jane…”

“Okay, all right. I won’t ask her about Michael. Hopefully I won’t see her at all.”

Lina gave Jane a funny look in the mirror as Jane put the blazer back on.

“What? Is this too middle aged lady accountant trying to fit in with her mostly male coworkers during the seventies? Same vibe, different decade?”

“Nothing. You just talk about Petra a lot for someone who doesn’t want to see her ever.”

“She insulted my honor,” Jane said. “She’s as close to a nemesis as I’ve ever had. Let me have this.”

“She also asked you to dance. That doesn’t seem very nemesis-y to me.”

“Her best friend also threatened to ruin my life if I kept seeing Rafael. That’s definitely nemesis-y.”

“Sounds more like Jane Ramos is your nemesis then, not Petra.”

“Lina. They are a single entity, like you and me. If one is my nemesis, the other is.”

“Why do you want a nemesis?”

Jane shrugged. “It keeps life interesting. Roxane Gay has a nemesis.” 

“Does she?” Lina shook her head to clear it. “We’re getting off track here. You do realize that being nemeses with my boyfriend’s business partner slash closest friend might potentially get complicated, right?”

“Like I said, it keeps things interesting.” Jane gave herself one more look-over in the mirror and nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

Although Jane was too busy running around the Marbella’s exhibit hall, ballroom, and conference rooms to keep a proper lookout, she did catch glimpses of Petra all through the day. Or at least she thought she did. Who else was so tall and so blonde and so…intimidating? Mostly her sightings were confined to the lobby when she walked from session to session.

Her luck did not extend into the second day of the conference, when she walked past Petra as she came out of the elevator.

“Jane? Jane Villanueva?”

Jane turned on her heel, her lanyard swinging, and gave Petra a polite smile. “Hi, Petra. Fancy running into you here.”

Petra let that poor attempt at humor pass and charged forward into a poor attempt at conversation. “So…you’re in the publishing industry?”

“Yeah, I work for Longbourn Books. And I’m a writer.”

“Oh, good for you. I hired a ghostwriter to work on my memoir once, but it’s hardly the same as actually writing a book.”

“You got a memoir published?” Jane couldn’t fathom what kinds of rich people memories Petra would want to share with the world. The time she got a horse? A fake rags-to-riches story that got blown open by the fact that her parents gave her startup money? The vacations she spent spitting on poor people?

“Not published; written. Unsatisfactorily, I might add.”

“I imagine you have high standards,” Jane said with a little edge to her voice.

“Who doesn’t when it comes to their own life?” Petra looked at Jane a touch curiously. “You don’t do ghostwriting work, do you?”

“No, I mostly deal in fiction.”

“Ah. Is the conference proving useful to you then?”

“I’ve given out my card to a bunch of people, and I attended a session this morning about marketing romance novels that was pretty helpful.” Jane looked at her phone. “Speaking of which, I need to head to the next session.”

“I won’t keep you then. See you around.”

Try as she might, Jane couldn’t focus on the diversity panel during the next hour. First dancing, and now this? Why was Petra going out of her way to engage with Jane when Jane was determined to dislike her? Not that she didn’t not dislike her because she had been civil. Asking about one’s career was hardly a marriage proposal. But a friendly Petra might work in Jane’s favor. If she asked casually about Petra’s friends, would she bring up Michael? Then technically Jane wasn’t asking about Michael and she could tell Lina that he wasn’t dead.

At lunch, Jane networked as usual, promising to review fellow romance writers’ novels if they reviewed hers, but she kept an eye out for Petra. Her opportunity came when Petra poked her head into the dining area to keep an eye on the workers who were cleaning up.

Jane didn’t wave her over—that would have been too obvious. Instead she caught Petra’s eye and smiled briefly, then pretended to write something in her notebook.

Petra was at her side not thirty seconds later.

“Hello, Jane,” she said in her usual businesslike manner. “How are things?”

“Can’t complain.” Jane smiled again and watched the corners of Petra’s lips almost lift up in response. “How about you? Dealt with any incompetent people today?”

Petra gave an exasperated sigh. “Constantly.”

“I should have guessed,” Jane said in a teasing tone she usually reserved for small children. “A better question would have been if you’d dealt with any competent people today.”

“More than I expected, that’s for sure.”

“Did you expect to deal with zero competent people?”

“Yes.” Petra didn’t laugh; in fact, she was so earnest it took Jane aback. 

“Oh. Well. You must know some competent people. Maybe outside your professional life?” Jane stopped just short of saying “Michael sure seems competent, what’s he up to these days?”

“I know a handful in various spheres,” said Petra dismissively.

Jane was thrown off her track of Michael information hunting. Someone with Petra’s connections and background must have known thousands of people, easily. How could she only know a handful of competent people?

“What are your qualifications for a competent person?” she asked.

“They have to take direction well, but be able to think for themselves. Be bold but not at the expense of other people. Smart but not so smart they can’t convey their thoughts. Have ambitions and unrelenting work ethic as well as flexibility and the knowledge of when to quit.” Petra ticked them off on her fingers. “Go the extra mile without being a kiss-ass. And, of course, ruthless with a strong sense of loyalty.”

“Wow. That’s quite a list. I’m no longer surprised you only know a handful of competent people. Now I’m wondering how you know any at all.”

“My social circles are very exclusive, filled with the best kind of people. It’s a numbers game.” Petra’s brain seemed to catch up with Jane’s comment and she realized that Jane had been joking. She frowned a little. “I won’t feel bad for being a snob, Jane.”

“I never said you should,” Jane said, although she absolutely thought Petra should feel bad about it.

Petra looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go. Good seeing you.”

She left before Jane could echo the sentiment.

It didn’t end up mattering that Jane hadn’t gotten the lowdown on Michael from Petra. That night, as she was rereading “Daughter of Fortune” before the closing keynote the next day, Jane heard the sound of Lina’s voice calling her name get louder and louder until she burst through Jane’s bedroom door.

“Jane! I need your English degree textual analysis skills.”

“Just a second, let me get to the end of the page.” But her ability to focus on the story before her was gone, so she put in a bookmark and put the book down. “What’s up?”

“Michael texted me.”

“What? When? Just now? What does it say?”

Lina handed her phone to Jane with a grimace. “Read.”

“Hey Lina,” Jane read aloud, “just wanted you to know that I’m heading to Montana for a journey of self-discovery. Don’t know when I’ll be back and I won’t have any cell service or internet access. Take care.”

Jane scanned the text again, then looked up at Lina, whose eyes were filled with a battle between despair and hope.

“What does that mean?” Lina asked.

“It means he’s going on a journey of self-discovery,” Jane replied glibly. “What a rich person thing to say, ugh.”

Lina smacked her arm. “Focus. We can make fun of his wealth later. What does it mean for _us_? He doesn’t say he wants to break up. He doesn’t say whether or not I can come visit him. Does he want me to come to Montana and discover myself with him? I can’t call him, but does that mean I should handwrite letters to him like some kind of goddamn Civil War bride?”

Although Lina had, on occasion, been frantic over a man, it had never been quite like this. In other instances, there had been anger welded to the desperation—fury at being scorned that shortly turned into sharp indifference. This was different. From her expression, she was well and truly terrified at the thought of never seeing Michael again.

“If he wasn’t thinking about me at all, that would be a bad sign,” Lina continued. “But the fact that he took the trouble to let me know where he’s going is promising, right? If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have bothered. He must care. I thought he cared.”

“Of course he cares!” Jane said fervently. “I’ve seen you two together and he looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

“I thought so, but what if I was wrong?” Lina looked over the text again, then threw her phone down on the bed. “Jane, what does it mean?”

“I don’t know what it means. It’s very open ended.”

“If he was a character in a story,” Lina said, “What do you think he’d do?”

“In a romance, he’d come back in a week and tell you he discovered he couldn’t live without you,” Jane replied.

“This isn’t a romance, but he wanted me to move in with him. That’s got to mean something. That’s not nothing.” Lina set her jaw. “And if he didn’t want me to move in or if he wanted to break up, I think he would’ve had the courage to tell me directly. Right?”

Jane didn’t have an answer for her. She merely listened as Lina prowled around her room, talking herself in circles, convincing herself that he’d be back in no time one minute and lamenting that he was gone forever the next.

One thing was certain. If Michael did show up next week expecting to pick up where he left off, Jane would have some sharp words for him.

In the meantime, she still had some sharp words for him and she was betting she knew how to find out how to get them to him.

After the final sessions and closing remarks of the conference, Jane made her way up to Petra’s office. If anyone knew how to get hold of Michael, it would be her.

A tightly wound secretary adjusted her glasses as she surveyed Jane. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No I do not, Krishna,” said Jane, reading her nameplate. “I was hoping Petra—Ms. Solano—was accepting walk-ins.”

“She’s not,” said Krishna unequivocally. “I can set something up now if you’d like. The earliest she has an opening is two weeks from now.”

“It’s not worth setting a whole meeting; it’s just a quick question. Can I wait here?” Jane gestured to the sparse waiting area, which comprised a single unwelcoming chair. Apparently neither Petra nor Krishna wanted to encourage loiterers.

Krishna flicked her long straight black hair, impatient but conceding, and went back to whatever she was doing on her computer. 

Jane sat on the chair, which wobbled precariously. Coming into the situation, she had been determined to confront Petra at any cost. The longer she sat, playing on her phone and trying to plot out her next chapter, the more fortitude she lost. It didn’t even seem like Petra was in her office. Most likely she was running around the Marbella micromanaging and having run-ins with incompetent people. Jane had a better chance of trying to find her there.

As Jane was about to pack up her few things, Krishna, who had been on the phone for a minute or so, complaining about something or other, said something that caught her attention.

“No, not Bordero. Cordero. C-O-R…”

What transaction could Krishna be enacting on Michael’s behalf? Krishna wasn’t paying any attention to Jane, but Jane affected an air of disinterest nonetheless. Just in case.

“No, I’m not his personal secretary but—” Krishna paused to listen. “I’m aware of that. However, Mr. Cordero is unable to be reached at the moment and has appointed Ms. Solano to take care of his affairs in his absence.”

More silence on Krishna’s end of the call. Jane debated whether or not she should live text the whole exchange to Lina.

“I’m aware Mr. Cordero made the purchases not long ago, but they have to be cancelled.”

Purchases? Jane decided against texting Lina about it until she knew how the whole thing would play out.

“If they haven’t shipped yet, why is it so difficult to cancel the order?” Krishna sighed away from the receiver. “Look, I’m not even asking for a refund here. We’ll even pay a restocking fee, although you really should provide better customer service than that.”

Jane snuck a look at Krishna’s expression. She was vexed.

“What if I tell you the whole sob story? Will that change your mind?”

Jane silently prayed that the customer service rep would say yes, and apparently they did because Krishna continued.

“Mr. Cordero recently moved into a relationship very quickly and was going to ask the young woman in question to move in with him—hence the order of the dresser and other items—when it came to light that she was far more interested in his money than him as a person. That was on top of the fact that her friends and family were completely embarrassing, of course. A good friend told him to get out of town and clear his head for a while, thus the cancellation of the order and frankly I’d be surprised if he decided in favor of this girl.”

No longer pretending not to listen, Jane’s mouth fell open in horror. She was talking about Lina. She was casually criticizing Lina to a complete stranger. Jane was so floored she thought she might actually be getting lightheaded.

There was a long pause. It came to an end when Krishna made a frustrated noise. 

“I’d like to speak to your manager.”

Jane had heard enough. If she had to listen to any more of Krishna’s palaver, she would begin smashing things. The idea that Lina only wanted Michael for his money! It was slander. It was indecent. It was insulting to both Lina and Michael and the beautiful relationship they had. All right, so maybe they had moved quickly, but that was no reason to shut the whole thing down.

As she made her way to the elevator, so angry she could almost feel steam coming out of her ears, Jane tried to think of the best way to pose this to Lina. Should she tell her at all? After all, there was a chance that Krishna had been wrong and that Michael would do the romantic hero thing and come back in a week and apologize for being an idiot and tell Lina she was the most wonderful person he’d ever known.

She rode the elevator, stewing, and didn’t get very far in weighing the pros and cons because when the elevator doors opened the next floor down, Petra stood there, one hand on her hip and the other holding her phone.

“Oh hello,” she said. “Going down? So am I.”

And before Jane could make up an excuse, Petra was in the elevator and the doors were closing.

Petra stood equidistant between Jane and the wall. Jane took a couple of short side steps to get further away from her. She didn’t trust herself not to physically throw hands. It didn’t matter that Petra was significantly taller. Jane was looking for any excuse to throw her shoulder into Petra’s ribs and take her down. 

A sound of irregular clicking was just louder than the hum of the machinery. Out of the corner of Jane’s eye, she saw Petra’s perfectly done fingernails tapping against her phone case. Jane clenched her teeth. Petra didn’t seem like a fidgeter. She always seemed so composed. Was the fidgeting a sign of guilt? Was she feeling guilty about what she’d done? Even a little?

Jane shifted even further away from Petra, putting all her weight on her left leg. She folded her arms.

Petra’s head tilted toward Jane ever so slightly and it looked as if she might say something.

Jane pointedly looked at her phone.

Petra drew her lips together severely and straightened her neck so she was looking squarely at the control panel.

There was no debating on whether or not Jane should let Petra know exactly what she thought of her. But attendees of the conference might still be hanging around the hotel, and it wouldn’t reflect well on Jane if they caught her in a blazing battle. Now was not the time. If she was wise, she'd wait until later to let Petra have it.

God, how long was the ride going to be?

Jane was just about to make a dry remark about the elevator being unfashionably slow for such an upscale hotel when Petra took a deep breath and began talking.

“I’ve tried to ignore my feelings for months now and they’re not going away so I have to tell you how much I admire you, how much I find myself bewitched by you despite it being totally out of character for me, or I’ll explode.”

“Excuse me?” is what Jane would have said if she had, at that moment, been capable of speech. But she was so blindsided by Petra’s declaration that she could say nothing at all. 

Petra took her silence as a signal to move forward and did so with great gusto, heartened by her perceived encouragement.

“I know, I was speechless too when I first realized how much I wanted to be with you. You’re not my usual type—you’re far more pedestrian than my usual girlfriends and I have a feeling that will never change, even if you were given a million dollars right now.

“Trust me, I’ve thought and thought about this and if there was a way to squash my frighteningly strong feelings for you, I would have found it. But I didn’t, so the only recourse is to throw myself at your feet and beg you to date me.”

For all her talk about throwing herself at Jane’s feet, which would have indicated humility, Petra was quite cool. She was sure of herself. Of course poor, _pedestrian_ Jane would leap at the opportunity to date someone of such high social and financial standing.

Jane would not leap. And she would not let Petra get away without letting her know exactly what she thought of her.

“You know,” she began, sounding calmer than she felt, “normally when someone asks me out and I reject them, I apologize and tell them I’m flattered.”

“Reject them?” Petra echoed.

Jane ignored her. “But in this case, I’m not sorry to turn you down and I’m definitely not flattered. What on God’s green earth made you think the best way to ask me out was by insulting me? In any case, my rejection should be welcome since you’ve apparently spent the last several months trying to talk yourself out of being interested in me.”

Petra regarded Jane with narrowed eyes, as if trying to figure out where to step on a booby trapped floor. “Well. Not quite the answer I was hoping for, but I guess I should be grateful that it was barely civil rather than outright hostile. I suppose it’s too much to ask why you’re not interested?”

“Besides the fact you told me you like me against your will?” Jane retorted. “Well, for starters I have very good reason to believe that you sabotaged Lina and Michael’s relationship because you think she’s a gold digger. I might forgive you for looking down your nose at me, but I will absolutely loathe you ‘til the day I die for ruining her happiness.”

Petra opened her mouth, then closed it again.

“You’re not going to deny it?”

“Of course I won’t deny it. It was the right call. Michael was moving too fast. He needed to take a breather.”

“And you hope they won’t get back together when he comes back.”

Petra shrugged, seemingly nonchalant about meddling in other peoples’ happiness. She was as unrepentant about this as she was about ruining Rafael’s life.

“But don’t think this dislike of you is recent,” Jane said. “I’ve talked to Rafael. I know what you did to him. You woke up one day and decided he didn’t fit in with your glamorous life and you gave him the boot, taking everything. Even if I had said yes, decided to date you, how could I be secure in the relationship with the threat of becoming a victim of your whims hanging over my head?”

“You’re very well-informed about my divorce,” said Petra, whose cheeks were flushed. “I doubt you’d be on Rafael’s side if he wasn’t so handsome and charming.”

“Sure, he’s handsome, but he’s also sincere and honest. And he’s got better manners than you. But even if you weren’t so completely clueless when it comes to interacting with humans, you’d be the last person I’d ever want to date.”

“Fantastic!” Petra threw her hands into the air. The elevator doors opened on the ground level but neither moved to leave yet. “Absolutely fantastic. Thank you for your honesty. I apologize for wasting your time and will try never to do so again.”

And she stalked out of the elevator, heading toward the kitchen. Jane likewise stalked out through the lobby to the parking lot.

It would be hilarious if the whole affair didn’t make Jane want to cry angry and embarrassed tears. Petra had been so incredibly inept at voicing her emotions that Jane was surprised she’d ever dated or been married. Perhaps none of her former lovers had made her as flustered as Jane did. Jane had never done anything to try to attract Petra’s adoration or even her attention! It ought to have been flattering. In another life, Jane might have seriously considered her offer.

Who was she kidding? There was no universe in which she and Petra would ever get along, let alone be lovers.

She had to talk it out with someone. Not Luisa; she was too close to Petra. Not Lina; not yet. She dialed her mom’s number.

“Hi, Mom,” Jane said. Her tone was bright and upbeat, as if what had happened was an amusing anecdote. “You’re never going to believe this.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many many many many MANY thanks to inamamagic for beta-ing and being my first and favorite reader.
> 
> Also, literally when will a woman tell me she likes me against her better judgment?


	6. Chapter 6

Jane was in no mood to attend the author event at Rosings Books. If she’d had her druthers, she’d spend all weekend sulking at her apartment, avoiding telling Lina what she’d learned about Michael’s absence, and feeling sorry for herself. She couldn’t say why, exactly, she felt so miserable after Petra had asked her out. Yes, Petra’s approach had completely lacked tact, but that should’ve made Jane feel angry, not miserable.

She was equally not in the mood to run into Rafael at the author event while she was so out of sorts, but her boss had asked her to go as backup for Catherine and there was no arguing with that. So Jane put on her most appropriate author event outfit (a cute yet professional boat neck blue dress) and headed out for the night. If luck was on her side—which it absolutely hadn’t been lately—she could hover in the background or Catherine would send her on some print run and she could spend most of the night in her car.

Luck was not on her side.

“I need you to ask Mr. Solano how many more of Mrs. Toro’s books are in stock,” Catherine ordered halfway through the event.

“Sure thing,” Jane said less than enthusiastically.

Rafael was standing behind the checkout desk, charming some of the patrons who were still buzzing from the reading. For weeks now she’d been daydreaming about what she would say to him if they ever came face to face. In some scenarios she ripped him to shreds in front of any and all bystanders. In others she killed him with kindness, letting him believe that everything was all right and then ending the exchange with a clever, devastating exit line.

She was too tired for any of that now. Besides, she was at a work event. She wouldn’t get anywhere in the industry if she was known for shouting down bookstore cashiers.

Jane tapped the single copy of the novel in front of him.

“How many more of these do you have?” she asked as politely as she could.

“Hey, Jane.” He flashed a big smile at her. “Long time no see.”

If she hadn’t been at a work function, Jane would’ve snapped back with “And whose fault is that?” Instead, she smiled tightly at him, waiting for his answer to her book query. She would not be wooed.

“I have a couple more boxes in the basement,” he said when he realized she wouldn’t be engaging in any banter with him.

“Great, thank you.”

Thus concluded their interaction until he followed her out to her car after the event ended and the store closed.

“Hey, what gives?”

Jane took in Rafael’s whole bearing. He was standing slightly farther back from her than normal, as if he was expecting her to attack him. The wounded expression on his face further annoyed her. She couldn’t believe his audacity. What kind of person fell off the map and then tried to make the other person feel bad when the indifference was reciprocated? Those pretty brown eyes had suckered her for the last time.

Still, she couldn’t bring herself to an explosion of anger. All she could manage was a cold, “You’ve been ignoring me for a _month_ , Rafael. You don’t get to pretend that I have to be friendly with you now.”

Rafael held up his hands in surrender. Everything about him projected the message _I’m not a threat_. “I’m not saying you have to do anything. I can go back inside if you want.”

“No, that’s not what I want.” That would give him the satisfaction of writing her off as some crazy, oversensitive woman. She wanted to make him explain his behavior, even if it hurt. Jane was already hurting; what was one more blow? “What I want is for you to tell me what I did wrong. What did I do that made you lose interest so suddenly?”

“You weren’t honest with me.”

That genuinely flummoxed Jane. If anything, she had been overly honest with him. Their first date had been a peak example of oversharing.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, baffled. “I told you everything, down to the exact amount of college debt I have.”

Rafael stood still for a second, his face shifting between expressions. Something rippled underneath the longsuffering good guy facade. Coming to a conclusion, he said, “You didn’t tell me you were waiting for marriage.”

That took Jane aback. True, she hadn’t told him about it, despite the fact that she had been planning to, but how could he have found out if not from her?

“Who told you that?”

“Is it true?” Rafael pressed, not aggressively. His tone was teetering on the edge of delicate.

“Yes, but it’s extremely personal and the fact that you didn’t hear it from me is worrying.”

“Look, Jane, I think you’re a really great girl, and I admire the fact that you’re taking charge of your sexuality like that. Your body, your choice, right?”

It was hard to be mad at Rafael when he said things like that. Maybe he really did care about her and when he found out about the whole virgin thing, he decided the kindest thing was to ghost her rather than confront her. This conversation wasn’t ideal. Jane had, after all, put it off as long as possible. Maybe she should’ve let it go.

“But,” he continued, “I’m an adult looking for an adult relationship.”

It was less hard to be mad at him then. In fact, Jane was far more mad at him now than she would’ve been if he’d just kept his stupid mouth shut and kept ignoring her.

She was plenty angry now.

“Are you serious right now?” she demanded. “Are you saying we can’t be in an adult relationship without having sex?”

“It’s not about the sex as much as it is—”

Jane cut him off. “You know what? I don’t care about your opinion or how you rationalize it. It’s trash. You’re right; I am a great girl and you’re missing out, you entire neolithic-minded buffoon of a man.”

She got into her car and drove away, not checking the rearview mirror to see how he reacted in the parking lot.

She still cried when pulled into her spot outside the apartment complex, though. Knowing that Rafael was an asshole didn’t quite take the sting out of what he’d said. It was exactly what she’d worried about—that her sexual inexperience would drive away potential partners. It had, and would continue to do so in all likelihood.

That was something Abulea had never covered in her chastity lessons. She’d always said that the right person would respect her for waiting for marriage—would love her more, even. She had never really gone into detail about how many people would be dismissive and hurtful about her choice.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Abuela had said that some people would scoff, but that the people who really mattered (including God) would understand and respect her. But those people had always sounded like people Jane wouldn’t want to date anyway. The kind of people who wouldn’t click with her. She clicked with Rafael. She clicked hard.

Was she making a mistake? Maybe Rafael was right and she was living in a state of perpetual juvenility. Maybe the real reason she hadn’t found someone to spend the rest of her life with was because she couldn’t commit to having an adult relationship. It was easy for Abuela to talk about the benefits of abstaining from pre-marital sex when she hadn’t dated for fifty years. Things were different now. Waiting for marriage was less of a sign of dedication to God than it was a symbol of living in the past.

Jane picked up her phone. She couldn’t promise Rafael that she’d sleep with him tonight, but maybe she should compromise and say that she’d sleep with him sometime in the future? She could always break up with him before it happened.

As she sat staring at the blue screen, Jane inexplicably remembered a conversation she’d had with her mom when she’d first started dating as a teenager. A boy she’d really liked had ditched her at the winter formal because she told him she didn’t want to have sex with him. Xiomara had had to come pick the sobbing Jane up.

Even at sixteen, Jane knew Xiomara and Alba disagreed on pre-marital sex. After she told her everything, Jane had expected her mom to say something to rationalize the boy’s behavior.

She was wrong.

“You listen to me,” Xiomara had said fiercely. “That boy was wrong. What he did was wrong. What he said was wrong. You promise me you won’t ever compromise what you believe just for some boy, okay?”

When Jane hadn’t replied, Xiomara said, “Promise.”

“Okay, okay. I promise.”

Present Jane highlighted Rafael’s contact information and deleted it.

It didn’t make things better, but she was less tempted to cave.

Lina wasn’t even home when Jane finally dragged herself inside, so there was no one to commiserate with. She hoped that wherever she was, Lina was having a better night than she was.

Jane picked up and discarded no fewer than six books before deciding she was doing no earthly good to anyone by still being awake and went to sleep.

When Jane trundled into work on Monday morning, she felt no better than she had on Saturday night. The sting of Rafael’s rejection and the anger at Petra’s interference had stewed together to become the ultimate misery soup.

“Excuse me?” a delivery person in a bright yellow polo with bright, naïve eyes waylaid Jane by the elevator. “I’m looking for Jane Villanueva.”

Jane stuck her bagel in her mouth as she signed for the large envelope, thanked the beyond cheerful courier, and considered the envelope as she finished the bagel and finished her ascent to her floor.

As her buggy computer booted up, Jane opened the envelope, having no idea who it could have been from.

It was from Petra.

Because of course it was. It was written in a neat, cursive/print composite and Jane would have immediately thrown it in the recycling bin except for the first line.

_Jane,_

_You don’t have to read this if you don’t want to._

Well, good because Jane didn’t want to read it. The fact that Petra at least acknowledged Jane’s antipathy was something. So she continued.

_I’m not going to waste your time or mine by repeating what I told you on Friday. I wouldn’t be writing at all except I think you might have the wrong idea about a couple of very important things. One is my interference with Michael and Lina’s relationship._

_Michael is one of the friendliest men I’ve ever met. He gets along with everyone. When I first saw him with Lina that night at the bar, I thought it would be just like all the other times he met a cute person and got excited. But as time went on, he was clearly more serious about her than he’d ever been about anyone. Not being close with Lina, I could only gauge her interest through Michael’s comments or the brief times I ran into her at parties. She never seemed as into Michael as he was into her. Then there was the comment your mom made about Lina never having dated a rich guy before. So when Michael told me he was thinking about moving in with her, I told him to take some time off and see if that’s what he really wanted. And yes, I was certain Lina wouldn’t wait for him, that she’d be on to her next conquest, but by the way you shouted me down, I’m guessing that wasn’t the case. I apologize for that._

_The other thing is my relationship with Rafael._

Ugh. Rafael. At this point Jane didn’t care if Petra had left him for dead in the middle of the ocean; it seemed fully justified.

_I’m not sure what exactly he told you, so I can’t counter his story point for point. Briefly, I was engaged to someone else when I met Raf; he liked the idea of stealing me away from that someone and I liked the idea of his wealth compared to that someone’s, so we got married. I ended up doing the bulk of the work at the Marbella (which his father owned) and so when his father died, the majority of the shares went to me. Raf didn’t like that. He tried again and again to get my shares through questionable means and continuously botched tasks and undermined me in any position I gave him._

_I’m no stranger to corporate espionage and often gave as good as I got. The breaking point came when I found out I was pregnant. I had mixed feelings on the subject since I knew a child would only throw our relationship into even more chaos, but I did genuinely want children. Rafael got quite ugly when I told him and said that if I didn’t terminate the pregnancy, he’d do everything in his power to get the baby taken away from me when it was born. I didn’t think he was serious, but when the twins were born, he flashed his charming smile at one of the nursery attendants and made off with one. He wanted the Marbella in exchange for one of my daughters. I agreed. Ownership was swapped, then Jane Ramos and I sued his ass until I got everything back. I don’t regret that part._

_If you’re having a difficult time believing or trusting me, I understand. You can ask Jane Ramos to corroborate my story (although I know you aren’t her biggest fan) or Luisa, who is Rafael’s sister._

_-Petra_

“Well, shit,” Jane said out loud when she finished reading. If she’d been willing to listen to Petra about Rafael from the start, she might have been spared that mortifying conversation in the Rosings parking lot. Leaving Rafael in the middle of the ocean seemed a very tame treatment to Jane now; what kind of complete monster kidnaps an infant to get his way? Jane had gotten off easy. What if Rafael hadn’t been put off by her virginity and had needled and needled her until they had sex and then she got pregnant and he didn’t want anything to do with her anymore?

But enough of hypotheticals. Jane reread the letter, particularly the part where Petra said she’d been unsure of Lina’s feelings. True, Lina wasn’t gushy about her boyfriends—she hated couples who were gross in public. Looking back now, Jane could absolutely understand how Petra got the impression that Lina wasn’t as into Michael as he was into her.

Another very important fact she gleaned from the letter was that  Luisa was Rafael’s sister. She hadn’t seen that coming, although she felt like she should’ve put the pieces together sooner. Now that Jane knew the full story, she regretted telling Luisa to give her slacker brother a chance. Should she tell Luisa that her opinion had changed? No, it was very likely that Luisa already knew the part of the story about Rafael kidnapping Petra’s daughter. She had probably taken that into account when deciding whether or not to let Rafael back into her life.

Jane laid her head down on her desk. Thirty seconds. She would give herself thirty seconds to finish processing the contents of the letter, and then she would get to work.

To her credit, after that brief interlude Jane was able to go about her business with relatively little distraction. And over the course of the day she decided she would break the bad Michael news to Lina, as well as divulge the contents of the letter.

“Well shit,” said Lina, putting it down on the counter. She sank onto the stool. “The good news is that Michael definitely likes me, right?”

She sounded less cheerful than her words implied.

Jane sat on the stool next to her.

“Of course he does,” she insisted. “If it weren’t for meddling Petra, you two would be taping up boxes and picking out bathroom paint right now.”

“Would we?” Lina gave a half smile. “If it hadn’t been this, would it have been something else?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he could’ve said no to Petra.” Lina traced shapes on the countertop. “If he really liked me, he would’ve said no to her. Or explained the whole thing to me. I would’ve understood. But at one suggestion from her, he up and left without looping me in. If Petra hadn’t interfered, would he have found some other excuse not to move in?”

“No.” Jane put a hand over Lina’s. “Petra’s not just his friend, she’s his business partner. What if he was scared she’d pull funding from the bar if he didn’t do what she wanted?”

Lina shrugged. They sat in silence for a few beats then, Jane watched Lina mentally push the Michael thing away and circle back to the letter.

“Anyway, that’s not the only bombshell that got dropped. This is a whole-ass involved thing. Who knew Luisa was Rafael’s sister?”

Jane wanted to keep talking about Michael and Lina’s feelings about the situation, but she knew Lina would talk when she’d finished processing, so she played along.

“Everyone but us apparently,” Jane pointed out.

Lina got pensive. “Does Luisa know you’re waiting for marriage?”

“Yeah, we discussed it the other…” In a flash, Jane understood what Lina was getting at. “You think Luisa told him?”

“In her defense, I don’t think she did it on purpose. I bet Rafael didn’t mention you to her by name or she would’ve mentioned it. He probably just got her talking about her new friend Jane who was friends with Lina and Michael and he put two and two together.”

“Well that sucks. But at least now I know he’s a dog?” The hesitation in her voice came from the very, very tiny part of Jane that still hoped things might work out with Rafael.

“He’s the worst.” Lina was unyielding. “You don’t want to date someone who’s going to be a dick about your choices, right?”

Jane was glad she hadn’t told Lina about her moment of weakness in the car after seeing Rafael. 

“Right.”

Lina picked the letter up again, scanning it and also giving Jane a thoughtful look.

“What?” Jane asked self-consciously.

“We haven’t really talked about the fact that Petra asked you out.”

“She’s the worst too,” Jane replied automatically. “Sure, she’s maybe less terrible than previously assumed, but that doesn’t mean she’s on the top of my list of people I want to date.”

“I didn’t mean Petra specifically,” Lina said. “I meant Petra as a woman in general.”

“Oh.”

“Because as far as I know, you’ve never given yourself a label besides straight. What are your thoughts and feelings about being asked out by a woman?”

Jane shrugged as if she was trying to shake off whatever it was she was feeling. “I don’t know. It does matter that it’s Petra because she’s the last person I’d ever date, even if she was a man.”

“Okay, let’s forget about Petra for a minute then. What if another woman asked you out?”

Jane’s normally imaginative brain refused to cooperate. She couldn’t envision it. “It has to be a real person, I think,” she said.

“Me then. What if I asked you out on a date?”

“You’re not romantically attracted to girls. Remember Chloe?”

“Fine. What about Marissa from your capstone class? You were pretty interested in her. What if she was like, ‘Hey, Jane, let’s get dinner in a decidedly nonplatonic way?’”

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

“What’s your knee jerk reaction?”

“I don’t know!” Jane was getting flustered, which meant her volume went up. “I don’t know, okay? It’s not something I’ve ever really thought about.”

“Because of the Catholic thing?”

“Because I like men and that’s been enough so far.”

“Hmm.” Lina tilted her head to the side. “Explain.”

“Society expects women to be attracted to men and I am, so why would I want to complicate my life by exploring whether or not I’m attracted to women? I don’t want to marry a woman. I want to marry a man and have kids with him. It doesn’t matter if I like women too because that’s not part of my plan.”

Jane was more than half expecting Lina to push back with a lecture about the validity of various sexual identities and how Jane was lucky to live in a time where she could explore her sexuality without being worried about being committed to an asylum or burned at the stake.

Instead, Lina looked at Jane long and hard, then nodded.

“Okay. That’s fair. If you ever want to talk about it, though, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks,” Jane said, relieved. “I’m here when you want to talk about Michael, too.”

They both flashed matching grimaces, neither wanting to deal with reality at the moment.

“Time to drown our sorrows in ice cream and chick flicks?” Lina suggested.

“You read my mind.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up y'all! I had a depressive episode and then just, like, the biggest case of writer's block but the good news is I finished the chapter. Will I finish the rest of the fic? It remains to be seen! Thank you for your love and support!

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to inamamagic who is the best beta out there <3


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